A Time To Love
by VanillaAshes
Summary: Lance Hunter and Bobbi Morse are not a normal couple, so what makes you think their engagement would be normal? Can these two successfully go from the proposal to the wedding without any delays? How does Hunter joining S.H.I.E.L.D. change their dynamics? Huntingbird! Characters include: Clint Barton, OC, and a lot of other characters. Mainly Huntingbird. Co-writer, Sanctuaria
1. The Proposal

**Author's note:**

 **Welcome to a new story! Co-writer, Sanctuaria. Huntingbird fic!**

 **Summary for story: Lance Hunter and Bobbi Morse are not a normal couple, so what makes you think their engagement would be normal? Can these two successfully go from the proposal to the wedding without any delays? How does Hunter joining S.H.I.E.L.D. change their dynamics?**

 **I hope you enjoy the story! I will post every Monday!**

* * *

 **The proposal**

Bobbi walked down the pathway to her home from the car, inserted her key, and opened the apartment door. "Don't shoot; it's just me," she heard Hunter's voice and quickly walked inside to demand why he was there.

Hunter was seated on the couch, icing his left hand as he watched the TV play an old western film. He was sitting in pyjama bottoms only. Slight bruising on his jaw and lower ribs indicated he had recently been in a fight. However, the relaxed expression on his face and position of his body showed he wasn't in a great deal of pain and didn't see himself in any imminent danger.

Which was odd, because he was in her apartment uninvited; that usually ended more than painfully for the intruder.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, coming into the room and mercilessly hitting mute on the TV. Hey, it was _her_ TV.

"I'm here to surprise you," Hunter lied, but instantly provided the truth. "Your apartment was closer and I needed to use… the bathroom."

"And decided to make yourself at home?" Bobbi questioned with a raised eyebrow. "And I didn't give you a key-how did you get in?"

"I-" Hunter started but hesitated for a long moment. "I haven't made a mess anywhere. My clothes had a bit of blood on them, and my shoes were muddy. I thought you would appreciate me taking them off, and then I decided you wouldn't like if I just sat around naked, so I put on some pyjama pants; I left them here last time. Thank you for washing them, by the way." He rambled.

She cocked her head, coming around the couch to sit beside him. "Are you okay?" she asked with a frown. "You're not acting like...you."

"I'm fine," Hunter replied offering her a smile. "I am just trying to be considerate… also, if I annoyed you, you'd probably hang me upside down and gut me."

Bobbi cast a teasing glance his way before standing up again, going to put her work stuff away. "You think I'd need to bother hanging you upside down in order to gut you?"

Hunter grinned at her, "Yeah, too much effort."

"What happened to your hand?" she asked as she hung her coat on the wall.

Hunter removed the ice from his hand and threw it onto the table. "I punched somebody," he responded shortly, before adding, "multiple times."

"Anybody I know?"

"Hopefully not."

"Or know of," she amended, returning to her seat. She held out her hand. "Let me see."

Hunter instantly held his hand out to her, turning his body to face her, "Not that I know of," he replied.

She examined his hand, her fingers running lightly over the contusions. "Well, at least you didn't break anything. Where'd you punch him?"

Hunter watched her fingers running over his hand, "His face… ribs… legs… back…" he listed, taking a moment between each area in thought.

She raised an eyebrow; this sounded like one serious fight. "And where was your gun?"

"By the fireplace," Hunter replied. "But I wasn't there to kill him, I don't do assassinations… usually."

"What were you there to do?" Bobbi asked curiously.

"I can't tell you, sorry. Confidentiality," Hunter responded apologetically.

She laughed. "Confidential, that's usually what I'm telling you. Who were you working for?"

"I can't tell you that either," Hunter admitted. "How was your day?"

"Classified," Bobbi replied cheekily.

Hunter laughed, "Of course it is." He pulled her closer, "Can I ask if you're okay? Or is that classified too?"

She smiled. "Why wouldn't I be okay? You're the injured one."

"Doesn't mean I can't still wonder about you," Hunter replied, setting a lingering kiss onto her temple.

"I'm fine; thanks for asking," she said, twisting so that his lips caught hers instead.

Hunter leaned down a bit more to kiss her more deeply before pulling out, "By the way, I'll pay for the window I broke to get in here."

"Pay for the—" her head whipped up, looking around for the shattered glass.

Hunter laughed. "Relax, I'm joking," he informed her, running a hand up and down her arm.

"Not funny," she informed him.

Hunter planted a small kiss on her lips and hovered, "Forgive me?"

"Hmm, it'll take a few more kisses for that to happen…"

Hunter instantly responded by kissing her again, interrupting her words. "Wait here," he said, standing up and jogging around the couch to his bag which was placed to one side. He rummaged through it, then looked up to grin at her before hiding something in his hand and jumping over the back of the couch and landed next to her. Without hesitation he draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for another kiss. "Do you forgive me yet?"

"Depends what's in your hand," she said, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Hunter pulled Bobbi a bit closer, before placing his hand in front of them and opening it, to reveal the velvet box. "Forgive me yet?" he asked, not opening the box.

She stared down at it, heart pounding. "Hunter…"

Hunter had to almost hug her to be able to open the box, unable to do it with one hand like he planned. He then repositioned his hand in front of them, so she could see there was actually an engagement ring nestled inside. "Will you-"

"Yes." She paused at his open-mouthed expression. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were asking me to marry you."

"-marry me," he finished lamely before grinning. "I was expecting you to say no," he admitted.

"Then you're stupid," she replied before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Hunter immediately responded to the kiss for only a few moments before pulling back, "Did you want the ring?" he asked, grinning at her and before she had chance to answer, placed a longer, deeper kiss against her lips.

"Kiss first, ring later," she replied breathlessly.

Hunter leaned away from her for a second, to set the ring down on the table before flipping her onto her back and kissing her again, "As you wish."

* * *

Hunter and Bobbi were laying on her bed. They had just woken up a few minutes ago, both smiling. "We're engaged," Hunter reminded her, taking ahold of her hand. His face went puzzled before he laughed. "I think we forgot to put the ring on your finger yesterday."

She laughed too. "Yeah, I think we did." Her smile turned into a slight frown of confusion as she looked around. "Do you remember where you put it?"

"On the table… in the other room, I'll get it," Hunter said, jumping up. He hesitated and started to put on some clothes, but changed his mind and ran out. He returned a minute later and jumped onto the bed beside her holding out the box. "Found it."

"Good," Bobbi smiled, holding out her hand, "because I didn't remember seeing it after…" She didn't even have to complete the sentence before he knew _exactly_ what she was talking about. Her smile turned mischievous. "Although, you know, if we had lost it...might have been worth it anyway."

Hunter laughed in response, he slid the ring onto her finger, tossing the box aside, "I agree with that. How about an encore?"

"Mm, okay," she murmured, leaning in to give him a kiss. Her phone rang.

"Don't answer it," Hunter muttered as he leant down and kissed her neck.

"Have to," Bobbi sighed, pulling away and picking the phone up off the nightstand. She put her hand on his face to stop him as he approached her neck again. "Hey, you remember last time you distracted me while I was on a S.H.I.E.L.D. call? Don't: that was not a fun conversation trying to explain myself to Deputy Director Hill later."

"You enjoyed it," Hunter pointed out.

She rolled her eyes and shushed him, answering. "Morse."

"Bobbi, it's Coulson," the man on the other end of the line greeted her. "We've got a situation we need you to come in for. Time sensitive."

"I'll be right there," Bobbi replied, already sliding her legs out of bed and opening her drawer to find some appropriate clothing. "See you then." She hit end on the call and tossed the phone back onto the bed, pulling on a pair of pants.

Hunter moved almost as quickly as Bobbi did, sliding behind her and wrapping his arms around her from behind, "Do you have to go? You have two hours before you're supposed to be at work."

"There's a situation of some sort," Bobbi told him, shrugging him off. "It sounds serious." She finished getting dressed and headed into the bathroom to send a quick brush through her hair. "You know I'd stay with you if I could. But hey, maybe I'll be able to use this as leverage with Coulson and get him to give me a couple real days off…"

"That would be nice," Hunter replied, giving her a smile. "We could use it for our honeymoon, getting a couple of days seems realistic with your schedule."

She laughed, coming out of the bathroom. "I was hoping to get those few days _a bit_ sooner than our honeymoon...besides, I'm taking a good two weeks off for that or more. If Coulson wants to come to our wedding at all, he'd better sign off on it."

Hunter laughed. "Good luck with that." He pulled on some pants and looked around before looking up at her. "How about I come to work with you?" he asked.

She picked up his shirt from the floor and threw it at him before exiting the bedroom and making a beeline for her go-bag and the front door. "Join S.H.I.E.L.D., and be my guest," she called behind her. Leaning down, she grasped the handle of her bag and lifted it, mentally checking the weight to know that everything she needed-her staves, her Mockingbird tac suit-were in there. "Bye, Lance!"

"You never know! I might! Bye Bob!" Hunter called back in reply.

She scoffed as she shut the door behind her. "Yeah, right." Bobbi headed down the stairs and out onto the open street, finding her car and driving to work.

* * *

"So this means you're moving in here, right?" Bobbi asked as she set a bag of groceries on the counter.

Hunter looked up at her, confusion covering his features as he finished his mouthful of crisps. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"We're engaged now, so why keep paying for two apartments?" she pointed out, opening the fridge to put the vegetables away.

"Right, of course," Hunter said, nodding slightly. "So… when'd you want to move your things?"

She smiled. "Move my things? What, you have that much stuff, Hunter?"

Hunter laughed, "How are you going to move into mine if you don't move your things?" he questioned, eating more crisps.

"Who said anything about moving into yours?" Bobbi asked, incredulity lacing her tone.

Hunter threw the crisp packet away, "You said you wanted to move in with each other," he stated matter-of-factly.

"No, I said, 'So this means you're moving in here, right?'" she repeated, using the exact same inflection as before.

"Why would I move in here? My place is nicer," he responded instantly.

She scoffed. "You're kidding, right?"

"What's there to kid about?" Hunter asked rhetorically. "Why should I move into here?"

"Because it's bigger. Cleaner. Doesn't have a neighbor across the hall who likes getting his newspaper in the morning before he puts on his pants." Bobbi laughed. "No reason."

Hunter frowned as he looked around the apartment, "But this place isn't homey, it's too…" He paused, "boring. It's like something in the military with its grey walls. My place as character in it, with neighbours who are up in the mornings and nights if anything were to go wrong."

"If anything were to go wrong, you really think old Mr. Hodgens across the hall is going to be able to help with something a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and an international mercenary can't do on their own?" Bobbi rolled her eyes.

"So, you want me to uplift my life and just move into here, leaving the home I _chose_ for this place, which I had no choice over?" Hunter questioned.

Not laughing now, she raised an eyebrow. "And you want me to do the same? You've only lived there for a few months, Lance-this apartment has been my home for three years."

Hunter huffed dramatically, "Fine, you win. I'll move in here." She had won the battle...a little too easily.

Her eyes narrowed. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," Hunter responded with an innocent smile as he stepped closer to her. "I love you and want you to be happy. If that means moving in here, I'm willing to do it," he said _too_ sweetly.

"Uh huh," Bobbi iterated suspiciously. She scrutinized him carefully, but found herself unable to read him. But she'd never known Hunter to give in that easily-especially since a lot of their fights ended in sex, the opposite of an incentive not to have them-so there had to be a catch. Somewhere. Bobbi switched tactics. "Okay," she agreed brightly. "Glad that's settled. So I'll ask S.H.I.E.L.D. to loan us some vans to move your stuff with next time I have a day off."

Hunter chuckled awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck, "No need for that, love. All my stuff's either here or in my car."

"So when you were accusing _me_ of having an apartment that was too bare…"

"Yeah… I haven't had an apartment for a couple of weeks, if I wasn't here or on a mission, I stayed in a motel-which wasn't that often," Hunter admitted sheepishly. "I wasn't staying there, seemed pointless to pay the rent."

"And so you instigated a meaningless fight because…" Her eyes widened with the realization, and she strode towards him. Bobbi thrust a finger into the center of his chest. "You wanted us to fight and then have sex!"

"I am offended you think that low of me, if I had wanted that, I wouldn't have given in so quickly. Where would that get me?" Hunter asked her rhetorically.

"You gave in because I was going to find out you didn't really have an apartment and then you would have been in real trouble," she accused.

"I haven't had an apartment for over a month, you didn't work it out in that time. So much for being a super-spy," Hunter retorted instantly.

"If my fiancé is one of the people I have to spy on, I need a new fiancé," Bobbi told him.

Hunter grinned at her, "Fiancé." He stated, "nice ring to that, don't you think?"

She smiled. _Ring_.

"Off-track… surely, you would notice that your fiance was technically _homeless_."

"Mm…" she paused. "What I am noticing is this fiancé starting another fight after he was forced to end the last one prematurely. Nice try, Hunter."

"What if I drop the milk all over the floor?" he tried. "All over your clean washing?"

She smiled sweetly. "Then I kick you _out_ of my nice apartment and call in a favor to Maria to repossess your car."

Hunter laughed and step forward, right up against her. "What if I kissed you?"

Her lips curved upwards in spite of herself. "Then...I might be persuaded."

He leant forward, his lips just touching hers, "I love you." He muttered before kissing her, a hand sliding around to the small of her back and the other tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She paused, pulling away from him. "Is this a real 'I love you' or another I-want-to-have-sex 'I love you'?"

Hunter licked his lips, "Well, I _do_ love you. It's always real when I say it, because you're just," he paused, "Wow. The most amazing person ever, and I love you-but I wouldn't mind having sex."

"Caught you," she whispered as she leaned in, taking his lips with hers again.

Hunter grinned into the kiss, pulling her flush against him.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading.**


	2. Hunter joins SHIELD

**Author's Note:**

 **Here is the next installment! Thank you to grossly sweet for reviewing :D**

* * *

Hunter yawned as he heard his phone buzzing on the bedside cabinet. Bobbi had left for work about half-an-hour ago. He rolled over and answered the phone, "Hunter."

"Mr. Lance Hunter, I am calling about your recent application to join S.H.I.E.L.D.," said the caller, making him sit up straight. "We would like to meet for an interview and initial fitness test."

"Okay. When?" Hunter inquired.

"We will send the coordinates and a time to your phone once we end the call. Good luck with your application."

"Thank you," Hunter said before hearing the beep. He looked at his phone. "They hung up on me."

Falling back down onto the bed, he heard his phone buzz again and read the text. His eyes bulged as he saw that he had forty-five minutes to get to the meet point, which could be a thirty minute drive from the apartment. He jumped out of bed and rummaged through his drawers to find appropriate interview clothes in which he could also do a fitness test. He ended up with Black fitted joggers, a grey V-neck t-shirt, a smart, yet casual jacket which looked a lot like a blazer—which Bob had brought for him—and trainers. He barely remembered to brush his teeth before grabbing his keys and a breakfast bar before jumping into his car.

Hunter managed to turn up to the location with five minutes to spare, although S.H.I.E.L.D. was ready to begin his interview as soon as he turned up.

"Mr. Hunter, thank you for coming in. My name is Agent Melinda May and I will be conducting the first stage of the interview. Take a seat," May said in a bored and distant tone, not even bothering to look up at him.

Hunter looked around to see that he in an office, he vaguely wondered what fitness test could be taken in here, "My pleasure; thank you for contacting me," he replied genially as he sat down. He adjusted his jacket, hoping he looked professional enough. He set his bag down beside him.

"Why did you want to join S.H.I.E.L.D?" she asked straight away.

"I've heard great things about the organisation and my g—fiancée works for S.H.I.E.L.D. I've been a merc for a while and have decided that I want a bit of order in my life," Hunter answered, placing his hands on his lap.

"Who is your fiancee?"

"Bob—Barbara Morse," he answered, he would have given more details, but he realised he didn't know what section of S.H.I.E.L.D. she worked for or what level she was.

May looked up at him, showing her whole face, "When did you propose, or did she propose?"

"I proposed… two and a half weeks ago," Hunter answered as he looked at her with a hint of confusion. It was an... _odd_ question to ask.

"Why should we accept you into S.H.I.E.L.D?" she said, looking back down at the paperwork.

" I was a Lieutenant in the Special Air Service, participating in multiple missions across the world-I was trained as an officer; I was there for a total of seven years. When I left the SAS, I became a mercenary which I have been doing for a year- that's a lot of experience," Hunter answered, listing his accomplishments. He tried not to sound too confident or big-headed, but wasn't sure if he succeeded.

"We already have experienced agents."

"Yes, ones that you have probably used a lot of resources to train to a reasonable or above reasonable standards. As I received an interview, I am under the impression that you are, indeed, hiring, therefore why bother hiring somebody with no experience?" he asked, meaning for it to come out rhetorically.

May glared at him. "It's about loyalty, Mr. Hunter."

"I am loyal," he defended quickly.

"Were you loyal to the SAS?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you leave?" May questioned.

Hunter had two options here, the real reason or the reason he told the SAS. He didn't like only having two options, because that meant he had to choose, after a few seconds he decided to give her both answers. "I told them that I wanted a change, to travel the world with more freedom. My contract was running out for the second time and I just did not renew it," he explained in semi-professional voice, aware that he was relying on his foreign accent to make him sound more professional. "But, the real—or _main_ reason I didn't stay at the SAS was because that meant staying in England."

"What was wrong with England?"

Hunter contemplated backtracking, but honesty seemed like the best option—he just hoped it didn't get back to Bob, because he hadn't told her this little detail. "Nothing was wrong with England… but I wanted to be… I wanted to move to America, which I couldn't do if I was in the SAS."

"Why America?"

"Because that is where Bob is," Hunter answered simply. He moved his arms to rest of the side of the seat before moving one back to his lap, trying but failing to read the expression on Agent May's face. "Yes, I left the SAS for a girl—I guess that's a mark against loyalty."

May began writing down notes at a faster rate, falling silent.

Hunter sighed, feeling like he had just screwed up this interview. Maybe honesty wasn't the best idea. It did show one side of loyalty, but it was loyalty directed towards a person instead of an organisation. He was wondering if being ignored was a sign that the interview was over and was tempted to leave but didn't.

Eventually May returned her gaze to him, "Tell me about your parents," she ordered.

Hunter looked at her. He didn't specifically want to talk about his family, but he had already started the honesty trend and knew that changing tactics would be problematic, so, honesty it was. "My parents…were a male and a female who are both now deceased."

"How did they die?"

Hunter took a breath, "My father was shot in the head, my mother…overdose." He looked at her and knew that she wanted more information, but he was unwilling to give anymore.

"They are not written on your records; why is that?"

"Because they are dead and it's nobody else's business," Hunter answered a little harshly. His parents were a sensitive topic, he never talked about them unless he was making up a lie—he told more lies about his parents than the truth.

"I need to know more about your childhood if you want to pass this stage," May told him simply. She looked ready to rip up his application form.

Hunter frowned, he wondered what she meant about that, what specifically did she want to know? "I was born and raised in Kent, went to Dymchurch primary school, then the Harvey Grammar school. I joined the SAS the second I turned eighteen, left it last year and became a mercenary and now I'm applying for S.H.I.E.L.D." He listed in short form his whole life. "Why does my childhood matter?"

"What connections do you still hold from your childhood?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"None, I have acquaintances and friends in the SAS, friends who are mercs but I don't communicate from anybody I knew from either of my schools," Hunter informed her honestly. "I have no living family members that I know of—my childhood has no significance to my current life or my decision to join S.H.I.E.L.D."

"That is all I need," May told him as she wrote a few sentences before closing the file and standing up. "Out the door, third on the right, up the stairs, second door on the left." She then walked out of the room with her file.

Hunter stood up, awkwardly watching her leave before picking up his bag and following her directions.

What Hunter found when he walked into the room was a large gym with an extensive array of equipment, machines, and a large space layered with mats. This was the type of interview he expected. The next four hours was spent with Hunter either on a machine, using the equipment, or sparring with an agent. Stage two ended with Hunter being thrown over an agent's shoulder onto the mat and his arm twisted behind his back.

By the time he got to stage three, he was aching all over, starving, and tired. He was supplied with a meal and asked a lot more questions than round one. These questions were more extensive, detailed and relevant to S.H.I.E.L.D.—there were a lot of phrased questions, such as: If you were on a mission with another agent and their life was in danger, would you a, help them out and get out of there or b, complete the mission then help them?

They were harder, philosophically, but at the same time less invasive. He answered them as best he could, often trying to guess Bobbi's answer if he had trouble coming up with one on his own.

* * *

Hunter yawned as he pulled into the driveway, it was only four in the afternoon, but he had the intention of going straight back to bed and taking a long nap until Bob came home and made him get up. And that's exactly what he did.

* * *

Limping slightly, Bobbi made her way to the front door and pulled out her keys. She inserted them into the lock, balancing a pizza box with her other hand. She maneuvered it through the doorway and set it on the kitchen counter. "Lance?"

"In the bedroom," Hunter answered.

"I brought pizza," Bobbi called. "Your favorite."

Hunter walked into the kitchen within seconds. "Pizza?" he questioned, giving her a small kiss and wrapping one arm around her waist. "I love you."

"I love you too...only my love doesn't require the introduction of cheese and tomato sauce on bread to be expressed," she teased.

Hunter smirked at her. "And if I were to bring you chocolate?" he asked with a grin.

Her smile only widened. "I didn't say I wouldn't love you _more_ if you brought chocolate."

Hunter laughed and pulled her closer to him. "I love you with or without pizza," he informed her. "Shall we eat?"

She opened the box and handed him a slice before taking one for herself. "So, how was your day?"

Hunter took a bite of the pizza and swallowed. "Very interesting," he replied cryptically, "yours?"

"Pretty standard," Bobbi said. "Reports with a sprinkling of ass-kicking."

"Sounds sexy," he commented before winking at her. "Although… nobody else finds you ass-kicking sexy… right?" he asked.

She laughed. "I can honestly say I've never asked."

"You're a super-spy, you don't need to ask," Hunter responded instantly, instinctively pulling her a bit closer.

Bobbi's grin widened. "Well, there is this one guy in Communications…"

"WHAT?!" Hunter exclaimed, his eyes widened. "What's his name and home address?" he asked seriously.

"Classified," she teased. "But he does like to hit the gym at the same time as me, and…"

"You're taken, maybe you should mention that to him when you claw his eyes out," Hunter interrupted her before kissing her as a way to empathise her being 'taken'.

"Mmm, I think that would be something that would get me an impromptu trip to Human Resources," Bobbi murmured.

"I personally think it would be worth it," Hunter muttered in reply, his lips touching hers but not actually close enough to be classed as a kiss.

"And a lawsuit," Bobbi added. "And possibly jail time."

"On second thought… I'll punch him for you… what's his name again?" Hunter whispered, his voice getting lower.

"Nice try," she whispered.

"MmmHmm," Hunter hummed before pulling her flat against his chest and tilted his head for a deep kiss.

* * *

Hunter rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. "Hey Bob, I'm heading out for a long mission at the beginning of next week." He wasn't even entirely sure if she was awake or not.

"To where?" Apparently she was.

"It's quite a drive, but still on American soil," he answered, rolling onto his side and resting his head on his arm as he looked at her. He could only see her basic features as it was nearly pitch black in the room.

"How long?" she asked, turning over so that she was facing him. The bit of light cast by the streetlamp outside their window reflected in her eyes, and he could tell that she was fully awake now, staring at him.

He took a breath, turning it into a sigh. "It's a long drive; I'm heading out on Sunday." He hoped she wouldn't ask again; he didn't think he had the willpower to dodge her question for the third time.

Unfortunately for him, she was a world-class spy and espionage specialist, trained to know when people—including her fiancé—were trying to bullshit her. "How long is the mission, Lance?" she asked again in a firmer tone.

"A month or so," Hunter said, bracing himself for her response. He really should have waited until she was distracted—like, leaving for a mission or late for work. She'd be too distracted to reply. But it was the middle of the night and neither of them had anywhere to go. Maybe that was his mistake: asking in the middle of the night, when she was sure to be suspicious that he was talking instead of sleeping.

"A month?" she exclaimed, pushing herself up on one elbow.

Hunter pushed himself up and leant against the headboard, there was no point even pretending that he was going to get any sleep, "It's important, Bob. It's just a month… and a half."

"And a half," Bobbi repeated. She was silent for a moment, then let out a low hiss of breath. "I don't suppose you can tell me who hired you or what you'll be doing?"

Hunter licked his lips, he looked at her hesitantly, "I probably shouldn't." He said regretfully, he wanted so much to tell her the truth right now—but he wanted to keep it a surprise for later and wasn't sure if he was actually going to make it through the entire training and becoming an agent.

Bobbi sighed, her head dropping slightly. "Well, I guess I can't hold it against you. I've done it enough times. Just don't die out there, all right?"

Hunter almost smiled in relief—she was dropping the discussion. He leant forward and gave her a small kiss on the lips. "I'll be fine; I'll always come back to you," he said sweetly. A smile graced his lips. "Just so you know, my phone will be off—so you can't track it."

Her lips curved slightly in the darkness. "What makes you think I would ever conduct such a grievous invasion of your privacy?"

Hunter pretended to think before snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her to him, "It could be from the fact that you've done it before—more than once. But, who knows."

Bobbi gave him a small laugh. "If I wanted to know where you were that badly, Lance, I'd call in a no-questions-asked favor from Fury and run your name through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database and your face through current surveillance feeds." Her voice grew dark, low, teasingly ominous. " _You can't hide from me._ "

He moved forward and kissed her quickly. "I expect nothing less," he said before kissing her jaw. "You're not going to do that, though… right?" he questioned, not moving away from her.

"Why, do you have something to hide?" she teased.

"Because, if you track me, it means that you don't trust me…" Hunter whispered with a smile on his face. "You do trust me, don't you, Bob?" he asked, trying to not smile wider, but he failed.

She narrowed her eyes. "I trust you normally, but not when you're acting so...suspiciously."

Hunter sighed, "If you tell me that I _have_ to tell you, then I will," he said solemnly, willing to spill everything to make Bob happy.

"Well…" she wrinkled her nose. "Then I'd feel like a bad fiancée." Bobbi smiled. "You can keep your secret, Lance."

"Thanks, Bob," Hunter said, hiding his relief as he leant forward and kissed her again.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Sanctuaria and I would love a review to see what you thought of it :D**

 **Next chapter up, same time, next week! Every Monday!**


	3. You kissed the mockingbird

**Author's note:**

 **Well, I hope you're all ready for Hunter being at SHIELD!**

* * *

"What do you think about her?" Darren asked.

"Yeah, she's fit," Hunter replied, cocking his head to one side as he checked out the random agents backside.

"If you like that, I should show you the gym; there's some hot chicks there. So hot when they work out," Darren informed him.

Hunter had just opened his mouth to reply when Bobbi walked out into the hallway, not looking in his direction. He instantly jumped and hid out of her view. He wasn't sure how she would react to seeing him there and decided that hiding from her was the best option. Darren looked at him and laughed. "You're not supposed to hide from the hot chicks!"

"I'm not here," Hunter whispered.

"Hey! Hot blonde, the newbie thinks you're hot!" Darren called to Bobbi, laughing.

She turned despite herself, a smile playing across her lips. "Oh, really? This newbie have the guts to come out and say it to my face?" Hunter closed his eyes, frantically thinking through his options. Running the opposite way seemed like a really good idea right now. But Darren's words made him curious.

"Man, it's the Mockingbird," Darren whispered.

Hunter poked his head out, making sure that it really was Bobbi. He never knew that she had a nickname. "Hey hot-stuff, wanna come over and give me a kiss?" he teased.

Darren laughed. "She's going to kill you, she's like…"

Hunter actually began to agree with Darren, he already could foresee ten different ways that Bobbi could kill him without even moving. He looked up at her as he saw her walking straight for him, showing no surprise or restraint; it's like she knew he was there. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but the flirtatious look in her eyes made him smile slightly. She sidled up to him and when their lips connected, neither of them held back in the long, hard kiss before she pulled away and sauntered off. He watched her until she was out of sight, loving the sway of her hips before grinning and smirking at Darren. "I think I'm going to like it here."

"Dude… that was _the_ Mockingbird; you know that right?" Darren said in wonder. "I've gotta tell _everybody_."

"Nah, come on. Who would believe that _the_ Mockingbird kissed me?" Hunter responded.

"True… I don't even believe it," Darren replied. "Damn, training's starting. You don't want to be the last one to arrive, trust me. Race you there, newbie!" he said before dashing off.

"You've been here four weeks longer than me!" Hunter retorted as he took after him. He was unexpectedly stopped after only a few seconds, feeling himself being yanked by the sleeve into an adjoining corridor so fast that he nearly fell flat on his face.

"What the hell, Hunter?" were Bobbi's first words to him. Uh-oh, she was using his last name, not good.

"What? I'm not allowed to race in the halls?" Hunter responded as he held onto her arm for balance.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Bobbi said, having none of it. "You're not allowed to run in _these_ halls. What the hell are you doing here?"

"If I must spell it out for you—I joined S.H.I.E.L.D.," Hunter answered. "Surprise?"

"You joi—you joined…" She stared at him. "You joined S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Hunter tucked some hair behind her ear, "It was your idea, Bob." He reminded her with a smile.

"But I never meant for you to actually...I mean...you never listen to me!"

"I listen to you," Hunter replied. "I don't always do what you say, but I listen."

"And this time you chose to do what I said even though I didn't mean it?" she questioned.

Hunter linked fingers with her. "Did you want me to quit?" he asked, looking directly into her eyes. "I think it would be fun to work together."

She smiled. "I never said I wanted you to quit. Although, if you don't get going, they might fire you instead…"

Hunter pressed his lips against hers for a few long moments before pulling back. "One question, where's Gym D? Darren was showing me where to go… why do you think I was running after him?" he admitted with a laugh as he stepped back away from her.

"It's down that hallway and up a flight of stairs," Bobbi pointed. "But by any chance is Victoria Hand your supervisor? If so you're already dead."

Hunter groaned, "Well… if I don't come home tonight, you know why," he replied, giving her a quick kiss before running off in the direction she told him.

"Don't tell her I held you up!" Bobbi called after him.

Hunter skidded into the gym after Darren. "You two, drop and give me fifty-one for every second you were late." Hunter slipped his jacket off, tossing it to one side before dropping down and doing thirty push-ups. He stopped, looked up, wondering if he could get away with slacking off.

"Hunter, that's another fifty. Only seventy left. Next time I see you slacking, you'll get worse than a few push-ups," Hand ordered.

"Yeah, a few," he muttered under his breath as he struggled to complete all of the push-ups. His breath was rapid and he had sweat dripping off his body.

"Hunter, we still meeting up later?" Darren asked him in a hushed tone.

He nodded, "Yeah, I'm in. How late will it run?"

"Just a couple of hours," Darren replied. "You should be back home by eight."

"Sounds good," Hunter panted, as he stood in line, waiting for whatever Hand was about to throw at them.

* * *

Hunter hesitated slightly before turning the key in the door and walking into their home. He was currently unsure if she would be pissed that he had kept it from her. She seemed happy about him joining, but that was different the fact that he hadn't told her. "Bobbi, you here?" he called, dropping his bag carelessly onto the ground; there was no point keeping it from her anymore.

"In the bedroom," came her reply.

A smirk made its way onto his lips, it was only 8:30 in the evening, so there was no reason for her to be in the bedroom, unless she was actually really happy he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. He walked down the hallway and into the bedroom, "Are you packing?" he asked, his eyes widening with utter shock.

"Last minute mission, it'll probably be a few days," Bobbi replied casually as she slipped some black leggings into her bag before turning to her. "Maybe you can take the time to reflect on lying to me."

"Don't be like that; you're about to leave me for _days_ ," Hunter complained, sighing as he leant against the wall for a moment. "Can't you...decline the mission or something? We should talk. About...it."

She rolled her eyes. "It's my job, Lance, so no, it's not optional. But we don't really need to talk-well, we don't _really,_ _really_ need to talk. We'll have to eventually, but what I said before, I was just messing with you." She paused, eyes finding his. "Why do you look so disappointed? You can't be upset with my job anymore, you've just joined it too."

Hunter nodded. "I know, I just wasn't expecting for you to be heading out for a mission," he admitted before walking into their ensuite bathroom to wash his hands which were sore from the extensive weapons training today.

"You're not going to get all mopey on me, are you?" Bobbi teased.

He laughed as he dried his hands and walked back into the bedroom towards her. "No. But now that we are both working in the same place, we could go to work together." Okay, even he heard how clingy that sounded, but her laugh and hand on his arm made it all worth it.

"I'm not always on the same base as you, but once this mission is over, I'll probably have a standard debriefing and we can head in together," Bobbi said before her arms snaked around him and she planted a small kiss on his lips.

Hunter smiled at her, his thumb grazing her jawbone softly. "Don't die out there; I'm expecting you back here."

"We both know that _you'll_ be the death of me."

Hunter's grin increased as he pulled her in for a long kiss. He knew was testing the boundaries—if she was packing, that meant she had to leave soon—but he was always good at distracting her. "Not a bad way to go, if you ask me," he muttered against her skin as his lips moved from her lips to her neck.

"You're going to get me fired at some point," Bobbi sighed, but she didn't pull away.

* * *

She threw her staves into her go-bag at the last second. Why had those even been out last night? She honestly couldn't remember, but it didn't matter now. "Lance, you almost ready?" she called.

"Yeah, two seconds, just looking for my damn…" Hunter mumbled off from the bedroom.

"It's on the counter!" she shouted to him, zipping up the bag.

Hunter walked in, one shoe undone but other than that ready to go. He grabbed the folder from the counter and shoved it into his duffle bag. "I'm forgetting something."

"You always are," Bobbi teased.

Hunter looked at her sarcastically. "Ha ha." He rolled his eyes, although his lips were turning up slightly as he looked around. "Phone, got. Keys, got. Jacket, got…"

"My good morning kiss?" she suggested with a suggestive smile.

He grinned as he made his way over to her. "You were out of bed before either of our alarms went off. So, your fault," he informed her before pressing his lips to hers.

"To make breakfast. And go for a run. And do some laundry," she added as an afterthought. Bobbi placed her hand on his chest. "But believe me, I would _much_ rather have stayed in bed with you."

"Me too, waking up next to you is one of my favourite parts of the day," he said sweetly, kissing her again quickly before stepping away. "Now, do I have everything?" he asked.

She scoffed. "Everything? I don't know what you have and what you don't!"

"Map!" he exclaimed, running out of the room. Hunter returned and shoved the map into his bag. "That way, I shouldn't get lost. Ready?"

Bobbi grinned. "How cute, you still use a paper map."

"After they _sold_ my phone without permission, I am keeping it hidden from their prying eyes and hands. Paper is untraceable," Hunter told her, he patted his front pocket.

"Sure it is," she nodded emphatically. Bobbi turned away and shouldered her bag. "Now tie your shoe so we can go."

Hunter looked down and groaned, momentarily closing his eyes. "Nah, I'll do it in the car." He picked up his duffle.

"Whatever," Bobbi laughed. She headed out to the car with him following, getting in the driver's seat.

He slid into the passenger seat, strapped in and started doing up his shoe. "You've got decent music in this right?"

"It's called the radio," Bobbi told him with a roll of her eyes. "And also, I should probably show you this." She hit a button on her steering wheel and a plastic cover matching the color of the rest of the console slid down to reveal a black screen. "Route me to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base; the Triskelion." The screen flared to life, complete with a map of the roads and directions. " _Paper map_ ," Bobbi repeated with a scoff. "S.H.I.E.L.D. might have done some upgrades to my car back when I told you I had to take it into the shop..."

Hunter's mouth laid agap for a while, "Firstly…the map is for the Triskelion. That place is big. And secondly… was this there when we got lost in Atlanta a couple of months ago? Because that would have been very useful."

"It has all the levels of the base—depending on your security clearance, of course—as well as driving directions to anywhere. And it transfers over to your phone so you don't have to be driving down the hallway."

"Well, I don't have one of them, maybe when I have the same clearance level as you, until then, a paper map it is."

"It's in your phone," Bobbi rolled her eyes. "The S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued one."

"In my phone… what?" Hunter exclaimed, sliding his phone out of his pocket and looked at her. "Where?"

"Repeat after me: activate S.H.I.E.L.D. Protocol 8987."

"Activate S.H.I.E.L.D protocol 8987," Hunter repeated and his eyes instantly widened. "Why didn't they tell me about this?"

"I think they did, you just weren't listening," Bobbi teased, pulling out onto the main road.

Hunter laughed, "You know me so well."

Her mouth twisted upward at the corner as she gazed out the front windshield at the road. "Too well."

"Think we have enough time to pull over before we get to S.H.I.E.L.D?" Hunter asked suggestively.

She rolled her eyes. "Check your new map."

Hunter chuckled and looked at his phone. "I can find a good place for us to park with this, you know."

"Yeah, except it doesn't come with a take-over-the-wheel feature, so we won't be pulling over," Bobbi told him. "Well, not at your level anyway," she hinted evilly.

He chuckled, "You have all the power in this relationship…but please don't tell anybody."

"Oh Lance," she teased. "I won't. One look at us together and they already know."

Hunter closed his eyes. "For the sake of my own dignity, I am not going to say something sappy or romantic."

She laughed, glancing at him. "Too late for that."

He looked at her, rolling his eyes, "Thanks. Can't you lie to me?"

"Fine, you still have your dignity," Bobbi said coolly as she pulled into S.H.I.E.L.D. "Feel better?"

Hunter laughed again, "Sure, thanks, Bob." He played with the map on his phone while she found a parking spot.

"How are you getting home tonight?" Bobbi asked in realisation that they were probably finishing at different times. Or if one of them were called onto a mission, even though it was unlikely that he would be called onto one.

"Darren's got me going to this social thing, some sort of club. So, he'll give me a lift home or I'm sure one of the other guys. It'll be fine," Hunter replied casually, not taking the prospect of being stuck at the base without a lift home .

"What is this meeting anyway? I never knew about clubs at S.H.I.E.L.D.," Bobbi questioned.

Hunter laughed, "That's because I'm more popular than you. It's just a fun thing; don't worry about it. It's just connecting with a lot of other agents, networking-besides, it'll be good to have friends to watch my back when I head out onto missions. Don't you think so?"

She nodded. "People to watch your six is always good."

"Besides, according to Darren's Level Five friend, you're in your own group. It's called 'Top 10 Most Badass Agents'. You, Romanoff and Barton are all on it. Along with the Cavalry, whoever he is, Fury, and a few others."

She smiled, a little bit of a smirk sneaking in at his assumption that the Cavalry was a guy instead of a small Asian woman. "Really?"

"Yeah! You're ninth of the list; it's great."

Bobbi glared at him. "Ninth?"

"Better than tenth."

"Don't call me if you need a lift home; ask one of the other eight top agents."

"I didn't make the list! You're just the ninth top threat or something. That's a good thing!" Hunter protested.

"Whatever."

* * *

 **I'd love a review just to know if you are interested in the story or not! It'll mean a lot to me if you have the chance! Thanks :)**


	4. Let's Train

**Author's note!**

 **Thank you for reading! Thank you Grossly-sweet for reviewing!**

 **So, the chapters technically a day late... but an hour or so! Sorry!**

* * *

Bobbi heard the door open and smiled to herself; it wasn't often she was here to greet him after work. But with Hunter joining S.H.I.E.L.D. now… "Hey," she greeted him with a smile in the entryway. "How was your nineteenth day at the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Agency?"

"Let's just say… I'm happy to be home," he replied as he half dropped, half threw his bag to the side.

She laughed. "That bad, huh?"

"I wouldn't say _bad_ , per se," Hunter replied with a small shrug, placing a quick kiss on her forehead. "But I'd definitely prefer it if you were training me."

"Agent Hand can be a bit of a hardass," Bobbi nodded. "But I could help you get a leg up, if you wanted."

Hunter looked at her and smirked. "I wouldn't say no to that. They did mention advancing me after a few months, because of all of my past training. But S.H. .D. is definitely different...I'd love your help."

"Okay then," Bobbi agreed. "But first I need to know what you can do. Push-ups, for example."

"Now? You wanted to do it now? I've literally just finished four hours of intense training, which included push-ups and pull-ups and hand to hand combat," Hunter asked, running a hand over his head and pulling his best 'I'm tired' face.

"Yoga instead, then," Bobbi amended with a smile.

Hunter quirked an eyebrow as he looked at her, "S.H.I. . training involves yoga? I must not have reached that level… you're messing with me, right?" He questioned.

"Of course it does. Yoga is all about flexibility, and more importantly, concentration. Concentration is a core skill for a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent."

Hunter removed his jacket, "Fine, what do you want me to do?"

"Take your shoes off too," Bobbi advised. He did so. "Balance on one leg and put your other foot on the side of your knee or however high up it will go. Raise your arms above your head and put your palms together; hold the position."

Hunter stared at her for a long moment, he lifted one leg and then put it back down, "What?" he asked. "Can you show me?"

Bobbi grinned and did the position, waiting for him to mirror her. "Come on, it's not that hard."

Hunter mirrored her, although, had to rest his hand on the wall to keep himself balanced. "Can't I just watch you doing yoga?" he asked with a smirk. She rolled her eyes, snapping her fingers at him.

"Hand off the wall; you're not learning any balance that way," she said.

He let go off the wall, only to have to replace it and repeat the process a few times, only being able to balance for about 5 seconds maximum, "Are they any easier positions?" he asked.

"Plenty," Bobbi replied off-handedly. "Lie on your back and bend your knees until they're up against your chest with your calves and feet going straight up into the air. Clasp your hands on the sides of your feet." She demonstrated, then stood up again to help him get into the correct position should he need it.

Hunter watched her intently and it was only after she had stood back up, did he drop down onto his back and pull his knees to his chest, although, his feet were not pointing up into the air, "How about we eat something instead?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes again, barely able to keep from laughing. "Just hold the position, Lance. It's called the Happy Baby Pose; it shouldn't be that hard."

"In case you hadn't noticed… I'm not a baby," Hunter pointed out, resting his head on the ground.

"Could've fooled me," Bobbi teased, offering her hand to him to pull him up.

Hunter let his feet hit the ground before sitting up and taking her hand, he mainly pulled himself up, "Unlike a baby, I can go to the bathroom by myself—or should I get you to help me with that?"

"Congratulations, you have mastered the toilet," Bobbi laughed. "Very impressive. So what you're saying is that, because of your amazing bathroom skills, you need something a bit more sophisticated to do?"

"I'd love to do something grown up," Hunter replied pulling her a bit closer with the hand that had helped him up.

She shook her head, smiling. "Sorry, Lance, being able to go to the bathroom by yourself doesn't make you a grown-up. I think you've progressed to the six-to-ten year-old stage." She snapped her fingers at him, looking at him expectantly. " _Élevé_."

"I'm sure I'm older than that," Hunter replied, his face turning confused at her command. "Uhh… bless you?"

" _Élevé_ ," Bobbi repeated, sweeping her hands in an upward motion.

Hunter stepped away from her to avoid her arms, he looked at her like she was crazy, but nevertheless copied her movements, more intrigued than anything.

"No, no," Bobbi laughed. "The arms aren't the movement, I just wanted you to do it. An _élevé_ is a _relevé_ without a _demi-plié_."

Hunter stepped towards her again, placing his hands on her hips and looking her directly in the eyes, "I have no idea what you are talking about." He admitted.

"It's French," Bobbi supplied helpfully. "Well, garbled French. It's ballet."

"You know French?" Hunter asked interested at this new piece of information. "Wait… ballet?"

"I've picked a bit up," she revealed. "Je suis sûr que je peux parler plus français que vous. Et oui, nous faisons ballet."

"I didn't think it would be possible to be more attracted to you," Hunter commented, giving her a small kiss.

"Aimez-vous quand je parle français?" Bobbi asked, then repeated in just a French accent so he could understand her, "You like it when I speak French?"

"Oui," Hunter confirmed.

"Dono yō ni watashi wa nihongo o hanasu toki ni wa?" she said. "Или русский. O español. O italiano."

Hunter simply pulled her closer and kissed her, "Was that the same language?" he mumbled against her lips, wrapping his arms more securely around her waist.

"Non, certainement pas," she said, switching back to French. Bobbi pushed him away lightly, shaking her head. "Hey, this is completely inappropriate behavior between ballet teacher and student. Back to dancing, Mister."

"You're not a ballet teacher and I'm not doing ballet," Hunter pointed out. "So, how about we go back to the inappropriate behaviour?" he suggested, although, he didn't step back towards her.

"Right now I am and we are," Bobbi told him. "Again, _élevé_."

Hunter sighed, "What's an eleve?"

"Stand with your feet at a right angle to each other, then rise on your tip-toes without bending your legs," she instructed.

"You want me to… No, how the hell is that supposed to help me with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Hunter questioned with a shake of his head.

"It's all about balance," Bobbi told him. "Besides...Clint would be able to do it."

Hunter's face instantly darkened, "Clint? Your ex Clint?" he asked with a deep frown, but put his feet into first position regardless and attempted to rise on his tip-toes, however, his balance wasn't that good. He held onto the wall again to balance himself and only raised two inches off the ground.

"Good enough," Bobbi laughed. "I can see from your expression how very much you want to continue, so a _relevé_ is the same thing, but starting with your knees bent." She demonstrated.

Hunter glared at her, bending his knees as he raised into his tip-toes, he was somehow able to balance better in this position, "Can we never talk about your ex again?"

"You mean my partner at S.H.I.E.L.D.?" She laughed. "I think you're going to have to get used to him, Lance. You'll probably see him with me a lot on the base. In fact, I'm sure you'll get to meet him at some point."

"Is it too late to drop out of S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Hunter asked, sounding serious. "I'd rather not see you with the guy you used to shag—and don't deny it, Bob."

"It's not too late, but you know that's over and done with, Lance," she said honestly. "It's history. I'm with you now; you don't have to worry about Clint."

Hunter sighed, "So, eleve… releve," He repeated, doing the movements. "What's next?" he asked, but didn't comment on Clint anymore or respond to her assurance.

Bobbi left the ballet alone for a moment, stepping closer to him and taking his hand. "Hey, Lance… You _know_ there's nothing going on anymore between me and Clint, right?"

Hunter stood up fully, "I trust you, Bob. I know you wouldn't do anything… but you are also _you;_ Every damn person in S.H.I. . wants you, literally, every _single_ one of them. And you happened to be partnered up with the guy that has actually seen you— I know guys and I know this Clint guy probably still looks at you in that way. That I will never be okay with," He admitted.

"Clint's been nothing but respectful since we broke up," Bobbi replied. "And the reason we're partnered up is that we're the best."

"I just wish it could be with somebody who didn't stand a chance with you if we were ever to break up," Hunter said with a shrug. "Just do me one favour."

"He doesn't stand a chance," Bobbi gave a small laugh. "We've been down that route before, and we're not going to make that mistake again. And I don't plan on breaking up with you; I wouldn't have said yes to your proposal if I was." She took a breath. "What's the favor?"

Hunter looked down at her hand, holding the one with the ring on a bit tighter. "If you catch him looking at you, tell him you're pregnant—even if you're not, just because I think that would be funny." He cracked a smile, looking at her.

"And get myself benched? I don't think so," Bobbi laughed. "Besides, do you really want him associating our recent engagement with me being pregnant?"

"Fine…punch him in the nose?" He then suggested.

"Another wonderful way to get benched," she rolled her eyes. "He doesn't look at me like that, Lance. I promise you he doesn't."

"Trust me, _everybody_ looks at you like that," Hunter told her seriously. "Darren talks about you non-stop now and the only time he's seen you in real life, you were kissing me."

"Yes, well, Darren isn't a representative of all guys," Bobbi said. "He's way younger than Clint, and from what I've seen, less professional and less mature."

"I didn't say it was just guys, Bob. And Darren isn't the only person who has you on their top five list. Seriously, you and _Black Widow_ are the most sought-after women in all of S.H.I.E.L.D." Hunter informed her. "So, I don't believe for a second that Clint doesn't at least check you out on occasion."

Bobbi laughed. "Funny that you would bring her up—Clint's _much_ more interested in her by my count. Besides, by your line of thinking, shouldn't I be worried about you checking out Romanoff when I'm not around? And weren't you playing hot-or-not with Darren when I discovered you were with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place?"

"Firstly, I don't even know what she looks like," Hunter informed her. "And secondly, I haven't slept with any of the people who I was rating—apart from you, of course. And none of them can compete with you on _any_ level… I love you."

"And I love you," Bobbi responded. "And not Clint in that way anymore, okay? So you have nothing to worry about." She smiled. "If it makes you feel better, I promise if he ever makes a move on me, I'll break his nose."

Hunter smiled and kissed her. "That is all I ask," he replied before adding, "That… and can we order pizza?"

"But we're not done training!" Bobbi exclaimed, then laughed at the expression on his face. "Yes, we can order pizza."

* * *

Hunter trudged up to the apartment, his bag in one hand as he stifled a yawn. He wondered if Bobbi was still at S.H.I.E.L.D. If she was, then hopefully he could get a few hours sleep. Glancing at the time, he wondered why they were all let out early, but he wasn't complaining. With one fluid motion, he unlocked the front door and walked in. He was barely three feet in, before freezing in shock at the sight in front of him; his eyes wide.

"Hey," Bobbi greeted him without looking up from her seat on the floor. "How was your day?" Magazines were spread out in a flurry all around her, opened to pictures of dresses and cakes and...lingerie? Okay, that one he didn't mind so much.

"What-what are you doing?" Hunter asked her as he dropped his bag and walked into the room fully. He sat down on the edge of the couch, looking at the open magazines.

"Just some research," she said dismissively, glancing up at him. His shock must have shown on his face more than in his voice, because she asked, "What?"

"Research for… what?" He asked stupidly. He knew it was for a wedding, but surely she didn't need that many magazines for their wedding. Right?

"The massively expensive first step to divorce," she rolled her eyes. "What does it look like?"

"Like you're planning a wedding," Hunter replied. "Are these all for _our_ wedding?" He knew the answer, but he still couldn't believe it-he honestly didn't think she'd be interested in having a big, detailed, and overly-planned wedding.

"Well, that would be because that's what I'm doing," she smiled, going back to her perusal of the magazine closest to her.

"Do you really need all of these magazines? Is it that important to you?" Hunter asked her dumbly. He never thought she would be that fussed over it all. Apparently, this wedding was a lot more important to her than he had actually realised. "I'm marrying an actual girl."

"What did you think you were marrying?" Bobbi laughed, looking up at him and making him realise he'd actually said the words aloud.

"What?" Hunter spluttered out. "You, I thought I was marrying you." That did not make sense, oh God. "I mean, I didn't realise you were... going to look at magazines of flowers and... napkins?"

"Well, you're semi-right. I was never the girly-girl type as a kid, so I don't have some scrapbook full of the details of my dream wedding. So I have to do it now." She tossed a magazine at him. "Choose a color; I can't decide."

"What?" Hunter spluttered out again, looking at the magazine and then opening it. "What colour are the flowers? Aren't they supposed to match or something? I don't want to screw it all up."

She gave him a sheepish look. "Hell if I know."

He shrugged, "I'll order some pizza and we can go through all of... this stuff." He dropped the magazine down and picked up his phone.

"It's okay, Lance, I don't want to make you go through this if you don't want to. We have plenty of time to decide everything, I'm just familiarising myself with everything and trying to work out what I want." Bobbi told him with a smile.

Hunter smiled at her. "I'll accept that. How about I make us toad-in-the-hole, mash and beans?"

Bobbi offered him a quick look of complete confusion. "Sure, if that dish involves no actual toad, mashed refers to potatoes, and the beans are of the green variety."

He laughed, "Of course." Green beans with this meal was unusual, but he was about to tell her that, he'd just change the meal slightly for her.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Please, if you have a chance, leave a review! It'd mean so much to Sanctuaria and I! :D**


	5. HIMYM

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello there, I've decided posting only once a week is not for me. Posting every Monday is just so... bleh. So, there will be more regular updates and there won't be a specific timeline. Let me know if you're okay with this!**

 **If you haven't seen or don't watch HIMYM (How I Met Your Mother), you might not get some references and Spoil Alert.**

* * *

Hunter was seated on the couch, his legs resting on the coffee table crossed at the ankle, and he had the control in his left hand and his arm draped around Bobbi. He tilted his head to the side as his eyes narrowed as he processed the show she had chosen. "I don't get it... him stealing a blue French horn from a restaurant and committing an act of larceny is supposed to be romantic?"

"He stole it for _her_ ," Bobbi said, eyes not leaving the screen. "It's a symbol, Lance."

"So… if I stole something for you… that would automatically be romantic?" Hunter asked, looking at her.

"Uh...no," Bobbi said quickly. "They're not supposed to be role models. You'd get yourself caught, and me bailing you out of jail is _not_ romantic."

"Firstly, what makes you think I'd get caught?" Hunter asked without saying a second option, deciding he wanted an answer for his first comment.

She rolled her eyes. "Please. You'd get caught."

"Thank you for the faith, love," Hunter responded. "Now, if we're not supposed to do the romantic gestures on TV… how is a guy supposed to learn to be romantic?"

"Based on how you learnt, he screws it up and screws it up until one day he finally learns to get it right," she replied, a smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

Hunter looked at her confused, "That made no sense… I just keep asking my Mum for advice when I need it."

She finally looked away from the TV to send a patronising glance his way. "Aw, yeah, you probably shouldn't have told me that."

Hunter pulled an 'oops' face, "I do ignore her half the time… I mean, she wanted me to take you on a weekend trip away to propose… but that's almost impossible to plan, because of your job—which she obviously doesn't know about—so I thought that up, just proposing right on this couch… I'm going to stop talking now."

"Probably a good idea," she agreed, turning back to the television screen. It was playing the credits. "So, another?"

"Please don't make me, I'll do anything else than sit through another episode of 'How I Banged Your Mother' or whatever it's called," Hunter complained, his head falling back against the couch.

"You kidding? This is one of the greatest shows ever," Bobbi said, snatching up the remote from him. "You must've not gotten it or something; we'd better watch another."

Hunter physically groaned, knowing that he didn't actually have a choice, unless he could think of something she would want to do more than watch the program. After a second, he asked, "How many bridesmaids are you having?"

"Really? You're trying to distract me with wedding talk?" Bobbi asked. "You hate wedding talk."

"But everybody has said, we need to match up the amount of groomsman, etc… so how many bridesmaids have you got?" Hunter said before lifting his head and looking at her. "Besides, we need to do the wedding talk for there to be a wedding, and I know I want to marry you."

She hit pause on the TV. "This isn't getting you out of the next episode, you know. But, let's see… Izzy, May, Maria. That's three. But I'm sure I could come up with another if you needed me too. I know Agent Hand would jump at the chance to participate in 'reckless agent-on-agent frivolity.'"

"I'm good, three groomsman and a best man is enough," Hunter sighed. "We do need to set a date; it's hard to see if my SAS friends are going to be free and see if they can come. I want to ask some of them to be my groomsmen, they have literally saved my life in the past— but they can't confirm until they know they're not overseas or anything."

"Ah, crap," Bobbi said. "I didn't specify a maid of honor. I don't know who it'll be."

"Wait, so do you have three or four it total? Does that mean I only need two groomsman? Because if that's the case, I actually would need you to have Hand in your bridal party," Hunter admitted. "I don't think I can demote somebody from groomsman status. Unless one of my mates can't make it to the wedding, in that case, we'll be fine."

"I'll come up with someone else," Bobbi muttered. "Oh, Natasha. But I can only really ask her if Clint's going to be one of your groomsmen…" She looked sideways at him hopefully.

"There is literally only one decision a guy can truly make at his wedding and that is who will be standing next to him as his best man and groomsman. I've met him once? Twice? I know he's important to you, but I am not going to have a stranger stood next to me on the greatest day of my life," Hunter said finally, not budging on this issue. "I think Natasha would be delighted to be your bridesmaid, regardless of if Clint is or isn't a groomsman—He'll still be at the wedding."

"What, you aren't too worried I'll sneak out the back with him?" she asked crossly, turning away.

Hunter removed his arm from around Bobbi. "No, I never thought that," he said instantly, " _this_ is why I don't like wedding talk. Maybe I should just let you plan everything and I'll turn up, seeing as it seems I'm not allowed to make any decisions for myself." He stood up.

She pulled him right back down by the hem of his shirt, twisting so that her legs lay across his, keeping him in place. "You're not going anywhere," she told him, hitting play on the TV again.

Hunter huffed, placing a hand on her legs, leaning his head against the couch, and closing his eyes. "Just let me know when it's over."

She poked him. "You are not falling asleep. You will watch this show until you fall in love with it or your eyes bleed, whichever happens first. Besides, season nine is all about planning a wedding—you could learn a thing or two."

"Let me guess, the wedding is between the blue trumpet pair?" Hunter asked as he reluctantly pulled his head up and looked at the TV. "Isn't loving you enough?"

"You'll have to wait and find out," Bobbi grinned. "And no, you must also love the things I love. Like when you make me watch soccer—sorry, _football_." She made air quotes. "I can't wait to see who you think should end up with who come the last episode. But, we're watching the broadcast version. Period." She said it in a way like it was supposed to mean something to him. Newsflash: it didn't.

"Whatever you want, love," Hunter responded. "Just remember that if I watch all of this 'broadcast version', you need to let me watch _all_ of the England matches. Not just the ones that count to the final score." He negotiated.

She sighed. "I'm supposed to know what 'count to the final score' means, aren't I? Fine, but I want to make a bet on it. If you end up liking the show at any point before those matches come on, I'm released from all of my England-match-watching duties."

"No way," Hunter said instantly. "If I'm watching what you like, then you are watching what I like."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were sure that 'How I Banged Your Mother' was an awful show and that you never ever in a million years would even think of liking it?"

"No, no, I don't remember saying that—I definitely did not use those words specifically," Hunter replied, shaking his head. "You know, I should be in bed by now, I have early training tomorrow, gotta leave here early in the morning."

Bobbi grinned. "So you didn't hate it. You did like it."

"I didn't say that," he replied. "I think I want to go back to the wedding talk."

"Too bad," she said. "Now I know the truth."

Hunter leant down and kissed her knee before resting his cheek against them and looking at Bobbi, "Maybe I like it because you do. It makes you happy."

Bobbi smiled. "It does make me happy. But don't expect me to feel the same way about you and soccer—that stuff does not make you happy, it turns you into a crazy, yelling-profanities-at-the-screen lunatic."

Hunter adjusted his arms so they were more-or-less hugging her legs. "I'm passionate about it," he replied with a small innocent shrug.

"Raving lunatic," Bobbi nodded.

"Did you want a autumn wedding? Summer wedding? Winter?" he questioned lazily tapping her thigh.

"I'm partial to autumn. Or spring, if we're having it here in D.C. with all the cherry blossoms…" she replied. "You?"

"If you wanted cherry blossoms, then we'll do it in spring… mid-to-late spring," Hunter spoke. "Do you think we can plan a wedding in six months?"

"We're with S.H.I.E.L.D., we could plan it in six days if we needed to," Bobbi laughed. "Can you imagine, agents setting up the reception venue and finding us a church and picking me out a dress and you a suit?" She smiled at the thought before returning to seriousness. "So yes, I think six months will be enough time. Might be a bit rushed, but there are plenty of people we can hit up for help."

Hunter chuckled, "It'll be easy and I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. would be delighted to help. Should we decide on an actual date?" He asked.

"Well, we have to book a venue before we decide on a date," she pointed out. "And decide where we're getting married. I said church earlier, but it doesn't have to be. Unless you wanted to try and see if S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide anywhere for that kind of thing?"

Hunter resisted groaning at the amount of preparations that had to do, "So… April-ish?"

"Sure," she laughed. "April-ish. Why don't you start sending out the invites?"

"Of course, shall I hand-write them?" Hunter mocked with a big grin.

"Oh, are you volunteering?" Bobbi asked with a grin. "Okay, that works for me. I do think it'd be nice if it were handwritten, but I had another plan for that."

"Oh? Do tell," Hunter said curiously.

"Quarter long course at the Academy of Operations: handwriting analysis and duplication. I know the agent who teaches it, and he would jump at some new material to have the students practice with. So I was going to give them a sample or yours and mine and offer extra credit for it—which, if you'd ever been to a S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, you'd know is near impossible to come by."

"Actually, I have been to S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy," Hunter informed her. "Did I forget to mention that to you?"

She frowned. "When? And which one?"

"Remember that 6 week mission I went on? Yeah, that was my induction training… and then remember when I was away for over two weeks—coming back 11 days late. Both of them times, I was at Academy of Operations," Hunter informed her with an innocent smile. "They spoke about having me to go the Academy of Communications when I started—but I don't think that stuck. Darren's gone there though."

"They're very different," Bobbi nodded. "And unless you like a high-stress environment and planning other people's missions all the time, I don't think you'd fit in at Communications. I did a four-week course there—I came out of it with a few more gray hairs." She laughed. "I much prefer being on ops than making sure other agents don't die on them from behind a computer screen."

"Noted, I'm staying away from Communications," he decided with a firm nod. "How did we start talking about work?" He laughed, "We're not going to be able to keep our wedding and work separate—are we?" He said, not actually too bothered by them being connected, it was a big part of Bobbi's life and would probably become a big part of his too—-it made sense that there would be some overlap.

"I've never been good at separating work from my personal life," she shook her head. "But it's S.H.I.E.L.D., so I've never particularly wanted to either."

Hunter raised an eyebrow at her, "You do keep some things of your personal life away from S.H.I.E.L.D. though… I hope."

She cocked her head at him curiously. "Like what?" Bobbi laughed. "They already have my Social Security number on about ten different supposedly secure servers around the world, so how much worse could it get?"

"I was thinking more about _who_ you choose to date, what you choose to do with your free time and who you choose to marry," Hunter said. "At least, I hope you weren't thinking of S.H.I.E.L.D in those moments with me… if so… why'd you say yes?"

"Well, Fury _definitely_ knew about me and Clint," Bobbi began. Hunter groaned with an eye roll at the mention of her ex. "And as far as my free time goes, before I met you it was more like 'what free time?' But no, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have me under surveillance, Lance—you, maybe." She laughed. "If S.H.I.E.L.D. knows what we get up to, it's because my friends are all the higher-ups who write the evals."

"So...they might be watching you torture me with your awful programme?" Hunter joked.

She whacked him over the head with a pillow. "What did I say about calling _How I Met Your Mother_ awful, Lance?"

"I can't remember," he replied with a half-smirk as he rubbed the back of his head where the pillow impacted, even though it didn't hurt at all.

"Then we'd better watch some more, hadn't we?" Bobbi said, pressing the play button.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, I'd love a review!**


	6. Hunter's first mission

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, if you read this story, please just drop a review to let me know. I'd love to know that this story is appreciated. Thank you so much to Grossly-sweet who has been reviewing right from the beginning :D**

 **Right to the story :)**

* * *

As soon as she walked in she could feel his eyes on her, staring at her from across the room where the new recruits were standing. Unwilling to make eye contact, she kept her gaze firmly on Victoria Hand, who was standing on a platform slightly elevated from the rest of them. "I hate you for this," she whispered to Coulson, coming to a stop next to him. "If I have to pair up with him...things are going to get ugly."

Coulson merely smiled. "All I did was mention to Hand that you were two weeks overdue for training the new agents…"

"And May's five weeks overdue, so don't give me that," Bobbi scoffed.

"It's not a contest," he replied mildly, and then fell silent as Hand turned her eagle eye toward them.

"Recruits, you will be partnering up with a senior agent," Hand said. "They will assess you on some basic fighting maneuvers and give you a verbal quiz on S.H.I.E.L.D. regulations. Go to it."

Bobbi and Coulson looked at each other. "That's our Vic," he cracked a smile. "Short and to the point. You'd better hurry if you don't want to get stuck with him…"

"Right." She spun around and literally grabbed hold of the first recruit she could find, all too aware of Hunter's gaze burning into her back from the other side of the room. She chanced a glance at him to see him talking up Isabelle Hartley.

Then she turned her attention to her own recruit and saw to her dismay that it was the one talking with Hunter in the hallway a few days ago—the one so impressed that Hunter had been able to kiss the _Mockingbird_.

Hartley made her way over to Bobbi, with Hunter in tow, "Look who I found."

Hunter sent Bobbi and Darren a grin, "Hi."

Darren grinned back. "I thought she'd choose you, after a few weeks ago."

"Nah, Bob wouldn't want to make her fiancé cry," Hartley replied. "I, however, am looking forward to it."

Darren looked between them, smile dropping off his face. "Wait, fiancé?"

"We're engaged," Bobbi told him. "I'm not _that_ much of an easy mark."

Hunter pouted for a second at his sudden loss of reputation, then seemed to realise he was still her _fiancé_ and perked back up again. "You should have seen the look on your face, mate."

"Dodge," Bobbi said before sending a punch to Darren's chest. It connected. "Reflexes, slow." She lifted her clipboard and pretended to mark that down.

Hartley laughed and pulled Hunter to the side to test him.

"Ow! Not fair," Darren told her, rubbing his chest. "I wasn't ready!"

"As a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, you always have to be ready," Bobbi informed him. She tried to take his legs out from under him with a kick, but he managed to avoid her this time.

"You can't let that be part of my evaluation," Darren complained. "I was distracted by extraordinary circumstances—learning that my friend was engaged to the freaking Mock...I mean, you."

Bobbi raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"So...it shouldn't count. Okay?" She replied with a punch to his face, but he was too slow to dodge it completely, allowing her knuckles to graze across his jawbone. "You do not mess around," he told her seriously. "How did you two meet, anyway? And why if you were here long enough to gain a rep is he just starting?"

"Tell you what," Bobbi said. "You answer one of my questions right, I'll answer one of yours."

"You're on," Darren grinned.

"What does the S.H.I.E.L.D. directive in Article C, subsection 96, paragraph 3 state?" Bobbi asked simply as she took a small step to the side. She watched Darren's face turn slightly confused as he tried to work out the answer right as Hunter was kicked into him, causing both of them to fall to the ground with a thud. "Be aware of your surroundings," Bobbi stated.

Hunter took no time hesitating to roll over and get back up. "Sorry," he muttered before glancing at an amused Bobbi and returning to Hartley.

Bobbi looked down at Darren, "That doesn't count either! I was being tested by you, that shouldn't count." He argued instantly before getting up.

She smiled. "You're quite right that it was a test. Now, Article C, subsection 96, paragraph 3…?"

Darren frowned deeply. "Article C is about proper conduct, 95 was about family relations in the workplace, so 96 was about children. It start off with… err… age of consent, then clearance and… paragraph three stated that children of a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent can be notified about the organisation without joining, if they are over the age of 13 and have passed a certain test and signed a confidentiality agreement beforehand," he smiled triumphantly. "Your turn to answer."

"The age was 16, not 13," Bobbi corrected, but she was still mildly impressed.

Darren sighed. "Why is everybody else fighting?" he asked.

Bobbi glanced around. "What do you mean?"

Darren looked around, following her example, "They are all doing hand-to-hand combat, and you're just surprise hitting me."

"I'm testing your reflexes," Bobbi reminded him. "But if you don't want to train with me, I can find someone else...someone who doesn't know what's needed to come home alive from black ops missions…"

"No, I'm good," Darren smiled. "When you put it that way, I guess I appreciate what you're trying to teach me, Agent…"

"Morse," Bobbi supplied. She couldn't resist adding, "Or maybe I just like hitting you."

Hunter stumbled over towards them. "Hey, he's going to work in communications, no hitting on him," he said, mishearing her last words.

She turned. "What?"

"Communications, Bob. He might turn into that guy you made up who would watch you work out," Hunter replied, taking a deep breath as he glanced at Hartley.

"Hunter, get over here, now," Hartley ordered.

Hunter grinned at Hartley. "Miss me already?" he asked looking over at her.

"He making you want to gut him already?" Bobbi asked, mimicking his tone.

"He's fun," Hartley said, sparing a glance at Hunter. "Usually I just come to these things because I like the look on their faces when I pull out my knife and because Fury'll bust my ass if I don't, but he's a nice change from the usual pant-wetting."

Hunter grinned proudly at Bobbi, "She likes me."

"You want pant-wetting, wait 'til he meets May," Bobbi replied back. "I'm considering asking Hill for a copy of the security camera footage."

"If you do, I'll make it into a DVD and play it at your wedding reception," Hartley promised.

Hunter looked at Darren. "You best start throwing some punches; otherwise how would Bob rate your fighting skills?" he asked before stepping towards Hartley cautiously. "You wouldn't really play that at my wedding reception, would you? Although, I do want to meet this 'May' now."

"She would," Bobbi informed him before spotting Victoria Hand coming towards them. She quickly turned to face Darren. "Really, now—duck." Her outstretched arm flew at the side of his head, and thankfully this time he dropped nearly to the floor.

"I see a lot of fraternisation going on over here," Hand told them, eyeing both Bobbi and Hartley.

"We were doing a partner exercise, ma'am," Bobbi told her.

Hand gave her a hard stare. "That wasn't the directive, Agent Morse."

"Understood. We'll get back to work," she promised.

* * *

Hunter took a sharp intake of breath as he pulled himself up for another pull-up, he felt his arms burning at the amount he has done in the last half an hour.

"Hey man, I just talked you up to the big guy, we're going on a mission," Darren said walking into the room with a goofy smile on his face.

Hunter dropped down from the bar, catching his breath as he looked at his friend. "We're going on a mission?" he asked, not wanting to presume that he was talking to him.

"Yeah!" Darren confirmed as he walked over to Hunter's bag and threw him his towel. "Comeon, briefing is in a few minutes."

"Now?" Hunter asked catching the towel and wiping his forehead, with Darren confirmation he grabbed his bag and walked out. "Who's the big guy? The director?"

Darren shook his head, "No, some other guy, some guys said that if you get on his good side he helps you out and gets you on more missions."

"Sweet." They headed out of the gym, Darren leading the way.

"How's the sexy lady?" Darren asked with a kissy-face.

Hunter couldn't help but laugh. "Sexier than ever." He shared a glance with Darren. "I'm a lucky man."

"How did you get her? I mean, seriously, she is way out of your league," Darren asked. "I need a hot chick like that… how flexible is she?"

Hunter smirked. "Unbelievably flexible, and you'll find somebody… eventually."

Darren glared at him before walking into an office. He took a seat at the side of the table and Hunter joined him. There was an older male, with his head almost shining due to the lack of hair, standing at the front conversing with another agent. He looked up. "Great, we're all here. You are going to go in pairs. Summers, you'll be with Agent Underwood—you need to get in there and disable the security, wipe all the footage on their cameras and cut the power. Hunter, you'll be with Agent Dakini—there's a vault in the basement, once the power is out, you'll need to open it and find a box that looks like this." He handed a picture of it to Agent Dakini and Hunter. "Agent Rickards and myself will be waiting to extract you. You must be in and out in under twenty minutes, that is the earliest reinforcements could arrive."

"One question: how are we supposed to get into the vault?" Hunter questioned, sounding a tad sarcastic.

He received a smile from the same man that spoke. "I have something to help you with that, and I think you may like it." He took a breath. "If there's nothing else, I'll see you at the quinjet in 30 minutes. Dress in tactical gear."

Everybody stood up and filed out, Hunter leant closer to Darren. "You know where to go, right?"

Darren nodded. "Of course, I've memorised the whole Hub and Agent Underwood told me earlier."

"How'd you get us on this mission?"

"I have connections, you gotta learn who to follow and when." Darren replied with a smirk. "You just follow your fiance around all the time."

"I do not! But I really need to talk to more people," Hunter laughed as he opened his locker and took out his phone.

"That's what I'm here for; you just keep that bird of yours happy," Darren replied with a wink.

Hunter laughed, he had to admit, being with Bobbi seemed to automatically increase his reputation with some people, even though others seemed to distance themselves—not everything was a win-win. He texted Bob to inform her that he was heading out on a mission and didn't know exactly how long it would take or when he would be back.

* * *

Hunter ducked behind a barrel quickly, the shots clinked off it, shielding him momentarily. He took a breath before leaning up and firing in the direction of those shooting at him as he ran for better cover. His eyes widened as he felt the air path of a bullet, almost hitting him in the face, he jumped and skidded down behind a car. With a few breaths he regained his composure and fired a few shots, he hit two of the assailants before changing position.

"Fall back," he heard through his comms. There was only three more guys, shouldn't be that hard. He went up on his knees, exposing his head and fired, shooting two of them in the head before sliding down. A ricochet of bullets hit the car and surrounding area—with a quick glance, he noticed that more assailants were turning up; he really needed to learn to listen.

"Hunter, where are you, dude?"

"South west corner," he answered, he sent a few shots out before reloading, sending another shot and then making a run for it. If he could just get into the forest, he could circle around and get to the evac. As he was running he heard the bullets hit the trees near him. A thankful sigh left him as he saw backup, he managed to get to the quinjet in one piece. Patting his limbs, he was surprised he hadn't been shot.

"What happened?"

"They were expecting us," Agent Dakini informed him as he slapped a bandage onto another agent's leg—who _had_ been shot. "Apply pressure; don't want you dying."

Hunter pressed a cloth against the other agent. "You're going to be okay, mate," he stated. After a second, it was decided that he'd stay with the injured agent as Dakini headed back out. "Where are you…?" He groaned and started to patch up the agent.

It was twenty minutes before Dakini returned and they headed out. He eyed up the box, but turned his focus back to the injured agent when Dakini bent down next to him and helped to stitch him up.

* * *

Hunter was in the lounge, a folder in front of him as he was completing a set amount of push-ups he had to do, as part of his training for S.H.I.E.L.D. "Seriously, this is a ridiculous number of push-ups."

"Get used to it," Bobbi laughed.

"Still," Hunter huffed as he sat up on his knees. "How do they expect me to do pull-ups at home?" He wiped his hands on his jeans before wiping his forehead.

"Go to a gym. Or install a bar," she suggested.

"Install a bar?" he questioned, looking up at her.

"A pull-up bar. Above a door frame," she shrugged. "They make them. Try Amazon."

Hunter nodded, "Sounds good. Want to go for a…" he looked down at the paperwork, "five mile run?"

She smirked. "Aw, you want help with your homework?"

He smiled sweetly in response. "Yes?"

"Okay, fine," she relented, going over to him and offering him a hand up. "But you know, this isn't really what I had in mind when I told you I got the afternoon off from S.H.I.E.L.D."

Hunter accepted her hand and stood up. "Why do you think I'm trying to get it all done now? Just the run and I'm finished. I'll go in early tomorrow and do the pull-ups." He questioned before grinning at her, "Then we can celebrate your afternoon off."

She raised an eyebrow. "With the amount of complaining you were doing about the push-ups, I'm not sure you'll have the energy to celebrate properly later…"

"Trust me, I will," he promised.

She smiled, going in search for her running shoes. "I'm ready," she announced, slipping them on.

Hunter took a deep breath. "Right, let's go. Five mile run… sounds fun," he said, like he was trying to convince himself. "Let's go."

Bobbi checked her phone as they walked out the door. "Is there a time you need to beat?"

"It said within an hour," he replied with a shrug. "Not that difficult, right?"

"I guess we'll find out," she grinned. Hunter grinned back, he stretched momentarily before setting out gradually.

Bobbi just laughed, setting the stopwatch on her phone before dashing past him. "Race you!"

"What?! No!" Hunter exclaimed as his feet started moving faster to keep up with Bobbi.

* * *

 **Thanks for watching.**


	7. Bridesmaids

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, I just want to thank the EIGHT lovely and amazing individuals who are following this story: Eco49; JET1967; LilahMorgann; Shal24; Skye4e; beverlie4055; h0bbitsess; marvellover677. Thank you so much!**

 **And, a thank you to the amazing FOUR individuals who favourited this story! Bookworm.1; Eco49; JessicaHart; Skye4e.**

 **The greatest thank you to grossly-sweet, who reviewed! Thank you so much! You're amazing, thanks! :D**

 **This chapter is nearly twice as long as the other chapters for all of you and the attention :D**

* * *

Hunter scratched his arm as he walked down the hall, curiosity peaked when he noticed somebody standing outside of one of the gyms. He wandered over to the doors, aiming to walk past him but was stopped.

"Sorry, if you want to watch, go up a level," the agent said. We need to keep the entrance clear for other agents actually trying to use the gym.

"Watch what?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Come on, Hunter. We'll miss it!" Darren exclaimed, appearing out of nowhere from behind him and grabbing his arm and pulling him around the corner of the corridor.

Hunter allowed himself to be pulled up a large flight of stairs as well, and he was glad he did when he saw at least twenty other agents all watching a fight. As he moved closer, he instantly recognised who was sparring: Bobbi and Clint. He watched for a few seconds before noticing one person taking bets, digging into his wallet, he put a fair amount of money on Bobbi before turning his attention to the fight itself.

His first thought was that his fiancée was a total badass. Not that he didn't know that already, but...well, he'd never seen her going up against—meaning going all out against—someone of her own caliber.

About half crowd of agents watching cheered as Bobbi trapped Clint's bow arm against the ground, pinning him, and then the other half roared in approval as he managed to twist so that the string was pressed into her neck, forcing her to roll off him. As they both leaped to their feet it occurred to him that perhaps he shouldn't have bet quite so much on Bob.

Almost faster than he could blink they were back together going toe-to-toe again, blocking and dodging and occasionally landing a hit but never a match-deciding one. The sheen of sweat on their bodies told him that they'd been going since long before he had arrived, and they showed no signs of stopping now. Bobbi was using her staves to full deadly effect—or she would have been, if they were actually fighting to hurt. She spun around, slashing at his kneecap and elbow while Clint parried the attacks with his bow nearly effortlessly before jabbing it at her. She reattached the staves to the back of her tac suit even as she stepped smoothly out of the way, sliding alongside it before grasping its handhold just above where he held it and pulling it past her, overextending his arm. His other hand came around to close over her wrist and twisted, causing her to falter slightly before dropping to the floor to duck between his legs and come out safe and sound on the other side. Clint toppled forward and Bobbi removed the staves from her back again, spinning them once at her sides to gain speed before smashing one of them down on his leg.

Barton rolled out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit, sweeping his bow underneath her feet just as she was regaining her balance from the previous move. She lost it completely, dropping the staves in favor of using her hands to prevent her from hitting the floor face first. Before she could do anything Clint had an arrow drawn and pointed at her and she froze, disarmed, for a full three seconds before a smile suffused her face. Half of their audience groaned and shook their heads, beginning to shuffle and pay up to the other half, while the Clint supporters grinned self-satisfiedly.

Clint held out his hand to Bobbi, lips moving but Hunter couldn't hear what he was saying to her over the crowd. "Hey, Hunter, pay up," the man he had made a bet with called. Shaking his head, he made his way over and deposited another set of notes in his hand. "Better luck next time!" the guy clapped him on the back. The gleeful look on his face made it clear his words were not sincere.

"Yeah, thanks, mate," Hunter said sourly. He headed back down the stairs, hoping be long gone before Bobbi and—more importantly Clint—came out.

* * *

"You had some new moves that you've been hiding from me," she laughed. "That arm-wrench? I was not expecting that. It was impressive."

"Yes, well, tell that to the ankle you nearly took out with one of your staves after I performed it," Clint replied.

Bobbi smiled. "Sorry. But all's fair when spies spar." Up ahead, Hunter walked into the corridor, but quickly changed directly away from them silently. "Hey, Lance!" she called out.

Hunter froze and slowly turned around, "Hey Bob, looking good… how's your arm?" he replied, appearing unwilling to approach her like he usually would have.

"It's fine," she told him, rolling it in its socket. "I take it you watched the match?"

"Yes, Darren took me," Hunter replied with an awkward nod. "I placed a bet on you, of course."

"Come over and meet Clint," Bobbi beckoned. "Clint, this is Lance Hunter, my fiancé. Lance, Clint Barton."

"Yeah, hi man," Hunter greeted him as he walked over and held out his hand to shake Clint's.

"Bobbi told me you were joining S.H.I.E.L.D.," Clint said, shaking his hand. "How's that going for you?"

"Fine," he replied shortly.

Clint glanced between the two of them. "So...the engagement. Have you set a date yet?"

"It's in April- but I think you should leave the arrangements to Bob and I—seeing as she's with me," Hunter blurted out almost aggressively.

Hawkeye merely smiled, and Bobbi sighed inwardly. "Of course. I look forward to getting my invitation some unknown time in the future, then."

Hunter nodded. "Yeah… let's hope it doesn't get lost in the post," he replied, "Although, I am sure Bob will hand deliver it to you."

"Of course," Bobbi said to Hunter. "I was actually thinking he could be one of your groomsmen, seeing as Natasha will probably be one of my bridesmaids."

"I'd love to," Clint smiled at her.

"I'm not sure… I kinda had them reserved for somebody that hadn't slept with my soon-to-be wife," Hunter replied. "But I'll think about it. Oh and Bob, remind me to invite all of your other exes… and every person you've slept with, I might as well make them all my groomsmen!" His voice rise in volume and sarcasm with the statement.

Clint turned to her. "That's a great idea, Bobbi. Don't forget Scott or Marshall from Ops, I know they both would hate to miss an event like this." Bobbi have Clint a look that was half-amused and half-annoyed… She didn't know anyone named Scott _or_ Marshall, and he knew it.

Hunter opened his mouth to say something but stopped. "Sure, Hawkeye the jokester, please, take the stage. You know what, maybe you could officiate the wedding too." He suggested. "You could also walk Bob down the aisle and give her away."

"Well, I did used to be in the circus," Clint replied with a smile. "But becoming a minister to officiate the wedding? Celibacy doesn't really sit that well with me." He winked at Bobbi.

"Oh look Bob, I'm pretty sure he's coming on to you," Hunter said in a calm voice, looking at her pointedly.

Bobbi smiled, rolling her eyes. "Yes, he is, Lance, because you goaded him into it. You're being an ass."

"I've been talking to him for two minutes-thought you said he was strong-minded," Hunter replied with a small smile.

"It's surprising how much of an ass you can turn into in two minutes," Clint nodded. "I'm just kidding, Hunter. You have nothing to worry about: I have no designs on your fiancée."

"Regardless, Bob told me that if you ever came onto her, she'd break your nose. It doesn't matter about what your intentions were, you came on to her," Hunter informed him and then looked at Bobbi expectantly.

She looked at Clint. "I did say that, unfortunately. You up for getting your nose broken?"

"If you must," her partner smiled. "But you know, the whole defending-your-honor thing is really supposed to be done by the fiancé. So maybe Hunter should be the one to do it." He coughed. "To try, I mean."

"You kidding, if I tried that, firstly, Bob would kill me. Secondly, I could be suspended or kicked out of S.H.I.E.L.D., and thirdly, Bob would kill me!"

"You are probably right," Clint nodded. "Although, I doubt she'd kill you; I did give you permission."

"Like that would matter," Hunter sighed. "Besides, I'm not ashamed to admit that Bob is better than me, especially at fighting. She's the dominant one in our relationship." Clint opened his mouth and then closed it again.

"Hunter! We've just been called for a drill!" Darren shouted as he ran past them.

"Bye, Bob, love you," Hunter said, kissing her cheek. "Great meeting you Clint, we should do this again," he added sarcastically. With that, he ran off in the same direction that Darren had.

"Good to meet him too," Clint laughed, turning to Bobbi with a twinkle in his eyes. "Well, you did warn me that he was a bit jealous, but…" He let out a low whistle.

"It didn't help that you were amused by the entire thing and kept making fun of him," Bobbi replied.

"Hey, you did plenty of that yourself," Clint pointed out. "Something about me being a groomsman?"

"That part was true," Bobbi defended. "...but I suppose there might have been a better time to tell Lance that besides when you were standing right there. Okay, sue me: I had a little fun with him too. But who are Scott and Marshall?"

"Your imaginary ex-boyfriends from Ops," Clint grinned. "If you're okay with it, I was actually thinking of inputting them into the S.H.I.E.L.D. data logs, give them histories and identities and… Too much?"

"Just a little," Bobbi laughed. "You like torturing my fiancé a little too much."

"What else is the now-platonic ex-boyfriend for?" he asked.

* * *

Bobbi was sitting on the couch, watching and admiring Hunter working out and following his set list. "I invited the bridesmaids over for dinner tomorrow-hopefully Maria or Natasha or May know more about this crap than I do." Bobbi informed him as he was on his eighteenth pushup.

"What?" he asked dumbly, straining his neck to look up at her.

"We're both finishing early tomorrow, so I thought it would be the best opportunity to finally get some more wedding plans set in stone." Bobbi told him. "Keep going."

Hunter grunted but continued his push-ups. "What plans?"

"Like the venue, dress, seating arrangements…" she listed off. There were a lot of plans that needed to be made, but they did not include the dress. She hadn't mentioned to Hunter, or anybody yet, that she had found the dress she was going to wear.

Her fiancé pushed himself up onto his knees. "Well, I guess it would be nice to know the official date of the wedding. And to get that, we need the venue. What about a hall, have the wedding in one room and then move to an adjoining room for the reception? Less travel." He picked up his water bottle. "And that way, we could choose the date, there must be hundreds of halls to rent, we could go for the 24th of April." He then took a few gulps of his water.

Bobbi nodded. "Good idea." She noted it down. "I'll discuss it with the girls tomorrow then."

He nodded as he stood up. "I could cook for you all. It's the least I can do if they're going to help with the planning of the wedding-not that I wouldn't love planning it."

She made a face. "I'll warn them of that then, thanks." She laughed as she stood up, disappointed that he had seemed to have finished his workout for the time-being. "I told them they could bring along a plus-one to this thing, so you'll have someone to talk to too that won't be yammering on about bouquets and frilly stuff. Oh, and Izzy too, as much help as she'll be." Bobbi smiled at the thought. "She'll vote we both just do this wedding in uniform."

"Wait-why? I don't need, nor want, that. Can't your gals just come and leave me be?" Hunter complained.

She raised an eyebrow. "Because you'll be expected to sit out here and debate with us the merits of two inch vs three inch heels? Plus I need you...not here while we discuss something else." Bobbi's lips curved upwards teasingly, her voice dropping lower. "Something else you'll _really, really like_."

"I have an opinion on the heels-no heels. You don't need them."

"But you know how much Izzy likes seeing me tower over you. Remember Paris?" Bobbi teased.

He sighed. "How about we order pizza tomorrow then? I look forward to entertaining the plus ones...as long as your ex doesn't come," Hunter negotiated, slipping off his sweat-covered top and tossing it over near the couch.

She looked at him with something akin to apology. "Tasha overheard me inviting Maria and May to bring someone along, so I couldn't exactly say Clint _couldn't_ come…"

"Yes-yes, you could!" Hunter retorted. "She must have other friends. I don't want to be stuck with him for a whole evening. Please, don't make me do this-He's allowed to come to the wedding, isn't he? That has to be enough. Please, Bob."

"Yes, a man who was my partner and best friend for more than three years and saved my life more times than I can count is allowed to come to my wedding," Bobbi said. She looked at him seriously, not laughing anymore. "I'm not going to let some made-up grudge on your part ruin our wedding. Maybe it's a good thing he's coming over tomorrow; it'll give you two a chance to bond a bit or at least air your grievances before then."

"I don't need to bond with him, Bob." Hunter groaned. "Maybe I will prefer to go over all of the plans with you and the gals. You're lucky I love you, can't believe I have to put up with that jerk." He shook his head, walking into the bathroom.

"Your friends aren't exactly peachy to hang out with either!" she called after him. "Speaking of which, you'd better stock up on beer 'cause I think Izzy's bringing Idaho!"

Hunter poked his head back in the room and grinned. "Izzy is by far my favourite of your bridesmaids! I'm going to take a shower; feel free to join me."

Bobbi waved him off, "I had one this morning."

"Not my point."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Please?"

"Fine. Because of Clint."

They got all the way into the bathroom before the words sank in and Hunter made a face. "Yeah...that just ruins it."

* * *

Hunter carried the groceries into the house, dumping them onto the kitchen counter before wandering out back into the living room and frowning. It was a mess, but he knew he had a bit of time before Bobbi got home-more than enough time to tidy up and put the groceries away. He contemplated it for a few moments before returning to the kitchen and emptying the bag, putting everything in the right place-or where he believed the right places were.

After grabbing himself a drink, he made his way into the living room and quickly cleaned it up, not bothering to hover. It was still a lot tidier without his and Bob's clothes thrown over the couch and dishes on the coffee table. He checked the time and noted that Bobbi still wasn't home, though surely she should be walking through the door any minute now.

Deciding to continue, he returned to the kitchen and did the dishes. He gave the counters a half-hearted wipe down. Another look at the time-where was she? Had she been called onto a mission? With a shrug, he grabbed their laundry and threw a load in before making his way to the bedroom and making the bed.

Just as he opened the closet where the hover was stashed, he heard the sound of a key being inserted the front door. He closed the closet just as the front door opened and he walked down the hallway to see a very disheveled Bobbi.

"Did you hear about all the commotion at the Hub? What was that even about?" she questioned with a sigh.

"I heard some guy went mental," he shrugged in reply, taking her bag and dropping it into the closet to the side-where they were always supposed to put their things. He wasn't about to let their laziness ruin all the work he'd just done. Well, not _today's_ laziness anyway.

Bobbi looked at him askance. "What?"

Hunter laughed. "I was joking. I don't know what happened."

She looked around, a flash of confusion gracing her features. "Did… Did you tidy up?"

"Me? Tidy?" He let out a hearty laugh. "Don't be ridiculous, Bob: why would I do that?"

"Are you sure?" Bobbi asked, walking through the lounge and disappearing into the kitchen. A few seconds later, she exclaimed, "You went shopping too!" Bobbi reappeared. "What did you do? What did you break?"

"Nothing," he chuckled. He hadn't considered how tidying up and doing as she had requested would make her react-but this was better than anything he could have imagined. "Do you really think I would butter you up if I did something wrong?" he questioned innocently, unable to keep the smile off his face.

"I think that's exactly what you would do," Bobbi told him.

Hunter laughed. "You've got the gals coming over later, remember. I know you hate people thinking that you live in a mess. I got back first and thought I'd clean up a tad," he told her honestly.

Bobbi smiled appreciatively as she pulled him closer and planted a passionate kiss onto his lips. He responded instantly, clasping his hands behind her and holding her close to him. "You could have vacuumed," she breathed quietly and teasingly.

"I made the bed," Hunter countered, really not wanting to do _more_ work. "Want to go and mess it up?" he asked, placing a kiss on her jawline.

"You know what I want?"

"Hmm?"

"For you to vacuum," Bobbi whispered before slipping out of his grasp and walking into the bedroom. "And then to join me in the shower."

Hunter grinned, quickly grabbing the hover out of the closet and plugging it in.

* * *

Bobbi and Hunter had emerged from the bathroom-after taking a long shower-half an hour ago, which left them an hour before guests were due to arrive. However, knowing some of the people invited, they could turn up at any time.

Hunter tossed the towel into the hamper, leaving it to dry. He was mostly dressed, just missing the shoes. So when there was a knock at the door, he was the one who answered it. "Bob! It's Agent Hill!"

"Hey, Maria," she emerged from the bedroom. Hunter disappeared back into the into it.

"Hey, Bobbi. I can't believe this is the first official time I've been to your home," Maria greeted as she slipped off her coat.

"It's small, but we like it," Bobbi glanced in the direction Hunter had gone. "Welcome. Come on, I'll open a bottle of wine." She jerked her head towards the kitchen.

Maria nodded and walked with her. "Who else is coming?" she asked conversationally.

"The usual suspects. It's me, so you can imagine how much help I'll need with this whole wedding-planning thing," Bobbi laughed ruefully. "You, Izzy, Natasha...and I figured Hunter'd get bored so the guys are coming too."

Maria nodded, "You must be desperate if you're getting Izzy to help you. Have you two set a date yet?"

"Not yet," Bobbi told her. "There's...there's still a lot of work to be done."

"Sounds like it," Maria replied as she accepted the glass of wine. She looked towards the front door when the doorbell went off again.

"I've got it!" Hunter's voice came. Preceded by a definite lowering of his voice, "It's Clint and Romanoff."

"Hunter, be polite!" Bobbi shouted back at him. Maria smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"I am being polite," Hunter called back.

Natasha walked into the kitchen and Bobbi handed her a glass, sipping at her own. "Let's hope Idaho arrives soon, or your fiancé may try to kill Clint while they're waiting," Natasha stated coolly."And it won't end well for Hunter."

Hunter poked his head in, "You know I can hear you, right?" he asked.

Natasha smiled. "I know."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Nat," Clint walked in.

"As if you really needed it," she smirked.

Bobbi sent a glare at them both despite being highly amused. "Guys, be nice."

Hunter opened the fridge, collecting two beers and offering one to Clint. "Nice enough?" he asked sarcastically.

"It's a start," Bobbi rolled her eyes. She addressed her guests. "So we were thinking of ordering food just for convenience-any preferences?"

"Chinese," Maria suggested first.

"Pizza," came Hunter's suggestion-although that one she expected.

"Indian," Natasha said simply.

Clint glanced at Natasha and then looked around at them all. "You know, I'm really feeling Thai tonight…"

Hunter let out a laugh. "Well, what do you fancy, Bob?"

She shook her head emphatically. "I'm not getting in the middle of this one. I guess we'll have to wait until—" The doorbell rang, interrupting her. Hunter went to answer it.

The corners of Clint's lips twitched upwards. "What're the chances Hartley'll want Middle Eastern and Idaho Korean Barbeque?"

"Let's hope not," Bobbi muttered.

"Hey! Come on in! Bob was thinking about ordering us all pizza, you both alright with that?" Hunter asked them quickly.

"Sure," Idaho replied.

"Only if I choose my own-I can't believe you put pineapple on yours," Izzy added, also agreeing.

"Great!" Hunter exclaimed.

"Real classy, Hunter," Clint muttered. Natasha simply narrowed her eyes.

"I'll grab you both some drinks, beer?" Hunter asked, his voice growing louder as he got closer to the kitchen.

"Do you have anything stronger?" Hartley asked, cheekily.

Hunter chuckled as he walked into the kitchen, "Are you all going to have a kitchen party?" he asked with Idaho and Izzy following him.

"Scotch's up on the top shelf," Bobbi nodded to Izzy. "And I guess we are getting pizza."

"I don't suppose we could tempt you with Thai food?" Clint asked.

"Or Indian."

"Or Chinese."

Hunter held out the vodka for Izzy, she glanced at it, then Hunter and the rest of them, "I'm fine with pizza." She replied, accepting the scotch.

Idaho accepted his beer. "I'm good with anything."

Hunter slipped past them, "Guys, let's move this to the living room," he urged. Idaho walked out with him instantly.

Bobbi dipped her head, following with the others, and giving Izzy a sudden look. "Don't spill that on the carpet," she warned, gesturing toward her drink. "I don't want Puerto Rico all over again."

Izzy smirked at her slightly, "It wasn't that bad."

"I had to throw out S.H.I.E.L.D.'s thousand-dollar rug."

"You didn't _have_ to," was Izzy's only defence before she occupied the seat next to Idaho on the couch.

"Should've let you get written up," Bobbi muttered before smiling teasingly at Izzy. "Hunter, can you make the call to the pizza place? As it was your request."

"Sure," Hunter replied with a cheeky grin as he pulled out his phone and wandered out of the room.

* * *

The pizza boxes were put on the table, between all of them. Everybody began to dig in.

"I was thinking about heading out to the bar after we've eaten; you in Idaho?" Hunter questioned.

"'Course!"

"Clint, you in too?" Hunter asked, taking a large bite out of his pizza slice.

Clint looked at Natasha. "Well…"

"You stick with us you're going to be dealing with all-important issues like napkin colors," Hill warned him cheekily.

"I guess I'll come then," he said with a shake of his head. "Thanks for the rescue, Hunter."

"You really had to think about that?" Hunter questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"That was actually more of seeing if I could wrangle up a reason that Nat would have to come with us so I could save her from the torture of it too…" Clint admitted.

"She's not going anywhere," Bobbi told him flatly.

He shrugged slightly, looking at his partner. "Sorry, Nat."

"I only have permission to take the guys," Hunter informed them, sending a pointed look to Bob before looking at Isabelle. "Sorry, Izzy."

Izzy waved her hand as she picked up another slice, "I owe her one, she saved my life a couple of months ago-couldn't get out of this."

"Not that you didn't try," Bobbi muttered.

Izzy grunted slightly, "You're a hard nut to crack."

"It's why they let me do the interrogations and not you," Bobbi teased. She looked at Hunter and the rest of the guys. "Go, have fun, no matter how drunk you get we're not driving out to pick you up, so don't get drunk."

Hunter grinned, leaning over and giving her a quick kiss, "No promises," he muttered before grabbing three slices of pizza and getting up. Idaho had taken one more slice and was already by the door. "Let's go," he added, glancing over at Clint before rushing out of the door with Idaho.

"Just a quick question, does your fiancé get...belligerent, jealous, anything else I should know about...when he gets drunk?" Clint asked, eyes following the pair of them.

"Around you? Probably," Bobbi laughed.

"Great," Clint said. He trudged out the door after them with one last glance-if Bobbi didn't know better she would have said it was filled with some sort of longing-at the girls. Izzy was looking longingly at the door, after the guys. It appeared that they would rather have swapped places.

Hill pulled her bag closer to her and pulled out two stacks of five magazines each, "Now the fun can begin."

"Yes...fun," Natasha said, reluctantly pulling some towards her as well. "You know, Bobbi, there's this really nice town out in Nevada…"

"Not getting married in Vegas."

"There are some great perks to getting married in Vegas," Hartley started.

Hill threw a magazine at her. "You are not choosing the venue."

"Pity," Natasha said. "I've staged a wedding for S.H.I.E.L.D. before...it was nice. And I got it done in half a day. There's this hotel called the Bellaggio, and—"

"No Vegas," Bobbi growled.

Hill pulled out a binder. "I've written a list of things which will need to be decide-not necessarily today, but in general." She looked down at the long list. "Such as, the budget, the guest list, the date, the venue, who will be officiating the wedding, the band or DJ, the photographer, the flowers and florist, the wedding dress, the bridesmaid dresses-"

"I vote no to having to wear a bridesmaids dress...can't it be a bridesmaid's suit?" Izzy interrupted. "And suit…even that's pushing it."

Bobbi shrugged. "Sure. Doesn't matter to me. I would say wear your S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform except my parents and other people without security clearance will be there."

"Your bridesmaids are supposed to match," Hill pointed out.

"But forcing someone into a bridesmaid dress seems...wrong," Bobbi said. "And anti-feminist. It really doesn't matter to me."

"I can not wear a dress and then we can match," Natasha offered quickly.

"You're the maid-of-honour! You are supposed to mostly match, but not completely," Hill informed her. "Am I the only one who knows anything about arranging a real wedding?"

"How do you know how to plan a wedding?" Hartley questioned.

"Unlike the rest of you, I'm a girl," she replied with a smirk.

All three of them gave her disparaging looks.

"Isn't it supposed to be what the bride wants?" Bobbi asked. "You can work on forcing Izzy into a dress for your own wedding, Maria." She laughed. "Good luck. You might have to order her into one...and given her track record, even that might not work."

"I hope you're planning on hiring a wedding planner then, because I can't make things match if the bridesmaids are all uneven," Hill decided.

"We're perfectly capable of doing this on our own...some things just may not match," Bobbi said. "Let's move on to...oh, how about the guest list? And seating arrangements for the reception."

Izzy leant back against the couch, already done with the conversation. She took a large swig of the scotch.

"How many people do you want to a table?" Hill questioned, flicking through her binder.

"I guess that would depend on the size of the table?"

"Six," Natasha cut in with a roll of her eyes. "Four is too few. Five-or any other odd number-makes it so that there has to be at least one single person alone at a table with two couples. Eight means you start not being able to hear each other." She paused. "Told you I'd done this before."

"That settles it then, on table one it'll be the bride and groom and their parents-Hunter's parents are coming, right?" Hill asked after a seconds thought. Izzy glanced up but remained silent.

"Yeah, of course they are," Bobbi said with a laugh. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"No reason," Hill answered. "But, you'll need the guest list before you can place people down."

"Hunter's list is around here somewhere…" Bobbi said, looking around. "I made him write it amid much complaining and bellyaching. And I didn't allow him any distractions until he was finished."

"Distractions?" Natasha raised an eyebrow. Her lip curled. "You mean you withheld sex."

Bobbi smiled. "Well, how else am I supposed to get him to do anything?"

Natasha grinned. "You two are going to make a great old married couple."

"Ew," Bobbi stuck her tongue out at her.

Hartley laughed. "Bob, can you imagine a seventy-year-old Hunter, all wrinkly and disgusting-looking, trying to climb on you for some 'fun'?"

"Oh my God I hope we don't live that long," she said, squeezing her eyes tight against that mental image.

Natasha's lips quirked upwards. "In our profession, you might just get that wish."

Hartley and Hill were laughing. "I hope you both live a long, long life together," Hartley quipped. "Mostly because I want to watch you grow old together and complain to me about that sort of thing."

"Til death do you part, you're going to be stuck to him now," Hill added, sniggering.

"Not yet," Natasha reminded them. "Sure you want to go through with this wedding, Bobbi?"

"Okay, as my bridesmaids and maid of honor, I don't think you're really supposed to be talking me _out_ of the wedding," Bobbi told them. "What happens when I have my quintessential oh-shit-what-am-I-doing-I-can't-do-this-and-certainly-not-with- _him_ bride moment and I need you all to convince me to do it?"

"We remind you how much money you've already sunk into this wedding," Natasha smirked.

Bobbi thought about it. "Yeah, that'll probably work. Good thinking, Tasha."

"And… remind you that you now work with him," Izzy added.

"So he'll pretty much be able to show up wherever you go," Maria summed up. "Like the bogeyman."

Bobbi snorted. "That should be his placard at the table. 'Bogeyman.'"

"Got it," Hill muttered, writing it down.

"Wait, I wasn't serious…!" She paused. "No, actually, keep it-I want to see his face when he sits down at the reception."

"Agreed," Natasha said. "It's too bad we're not at the table with you." She looked at the time. "It's been...more than an hour, and we've decided on the number of seats at the table."

"Good job, guys," Bobbi laughed. "What do you think the boys are doing right now?"

"Probably something they shouldn't be," Hartley said. "Knowing Idaho."

"And knowing Hunter."

Natasha looked at them, pretending to be scandalised. "What the hell kind of people did you throw my Clint in with?"

"Oh, and about that seating thing," Bobbi said. "I'm actually thinking eight at a table would be better."

Hartley groaned. "We're never getting out of here."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! :D**


	8. Guys Night Out

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, huge thank you for grossly-sweet for reviewing and being a constant supporter of this story!**

 **And a massive thank you to Princess2016 for reviewing the last chapter, it's marvellous to know others are enjoying the story!**

* * *

Hunter walked into the bar. It was mildly busy, but not too busy- that was good, as it meant he'd get served quickly but that there were actually other people around. "Three buds," he ordered, paying with his credit card. He sat on the seat at the table that Idaho had selected- and he had to admit, they could literally see every corner in the pub. "Drink up, lads."

Idaho accepted his drink and took a large swig, "When do you think it'll be safe to go back there?" he asked.

"Never," Clint said with a wry smile. "I know Natasha quite well and enough of Hartley to know that they're going to be hopeless at this sort of thing. We might have to move out permanently. New Jersey might not even be far enough away."

Hunter nodded. "I agree with Clint."

"What, are you two best-buds now? It can't be _that_ bad," Idaho replied.

Clint smirked into his drink. "It's that bad."

"Bob had like, fifty magazines merely a month after I proposed… _fifty_. I'm betting that's increased."

"And not a clue what to do with any of them, I suspect," Clint laughed.

"So… we're heading back to England then?" Idaho joked.

Hunter laughed. "Sounds like a plan." He clinked his drink with Idaho and they both drank.

"Not me, I'm not going," Clint shook his head emphatically. "I'm American, through and through."

"Yeah, so am I," Idaho replied. "But England's a great place- if Bobbi really does have fifty magazines, then Izzy is going to go on a killing rampage- and she'll be after Hunter first, and if we're with him..." He paused. "On second thought, I'll go to wherever he isn't."

"Thanks for the support, guys," Hunter muttered as he downed the last few gulps. "Want a refill?"

"Burning through those kind of fast, aren't you?" Clint asked, nodding towards the bottle.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Not really." He noticed that Clint's wasn't even half-empty. "You're nursing yours- didn't peg you for a lightweight."

"Lightweight?" Clint asked. "You've obviously never seen me drink with Natasha then."

"I bet she has to carry you home- she's Russian, she can obviously hold her liquor," Hunter responded.

"I'll go get us a few drinks," Idaho said, sliding out of his seat.

"While I won't say Nat _couldn't_ carry me home if she wanted to, that's not what usually happens," Clint smirks. "Nobody carries anybody…we generally just stay in the building."

"Stay in the building? I'm not carrying you home if you can't walk, I'll just leave you here if you wanted."

"I can handle my drinks," Clint replied.

"Really? How about we put that to the test?" Hunter challenges before calling after Idaho, "Get some shots too."

Clint appeared amused. "A drinking contest, really, Hunter?" He took another swig of his beer. "I'll warn you, it's not going to end well for you." He glanced him up and down. "I know how Bobbi drinks, and I still think she could out-drink you."

"You think you know me, and Bob, but you don't. I'll show you what I'm really made of," Hunter responded.

Idaho returned with six beers, eight shots and two Jägers, "I'm only having beers. You two can do whatever stupid shit you want, but I am not getting involved in it."

"I've got just meetings with Fury and the Council tomorrow...a hangover can't make it much worse," Clint joked. "Not that your piddling four shots could make me hungover anyways."

"This is just the beginning," Hunter promised, picking up the first shot and making eye contact. "Ready?"

"Hold on," Clint said, pulling out his phone and snapping a quick picture of him. Then he picked up the shot. "When you are, shorty."

Hunter downed the shot, followed immediately by a second shot. He picked up his beer and took a swig. "Oh, now would be a good time to ask Idaho what he's planning for my bachelor party."

"If you want," Clint said, downing the first shot. And the second. And the third. "Idaho?"

Hunter downed the third shot, not wanting to be one behind him.

"I'm not saying anything in front of Hunter- he'll go straight to his missy to get approval- and he won't get it."

Clint laughed. "Two shots in and you already forgot that it's the other guy you have to get drunk for him to spill his secrets, not yourself," he teased Hunter.

"It was worth a try," Hunter muttered, downing his fourth shot and then chugging half of his beer. "Stop procrastinating, get drinking."

"So that's how it is?" the assassin grinned. "It's always a rush with you and Natasha both. And yet—" He downed the fourth shot and the Jägerbomb. "-I never have a problem keeping up with either of you."

"You seem a bit slow," Hunter muttered, finishing his beer before also downing his Jägerbomb. "I've only got one beer left; you've got two."

Clint laughed. "Beer is Little League, Hunter. That's just a who-has-the-larger-bladder contest and you know it. A shot is way more concentrated. But, if it will make you happy—" he chugged the rest of his and snagged a second.

"You don't want to break the seal, mate-otherwise you'll be pissing all night," Idaho advised.

"Yeah, only wussies go to the bathroom on a night out," Hunter smirked. "Just drink up and stop complaining- or better yet, how about you go up and choose the next set of drinks?"

"Sure," Clint said, picking up his beer and taking it with him to the bar. Hunter watched him speak to the bartender for a few seconds.

"You crazy? A drinking competition?" Idaho asked. "Don't you have training tomorrow at S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Hunter shook his head. "Nah, I've got tomorrow off, as I've got this three day intense thing the day after," he answered, sipping his beer. He noticed the pub had picked up slightly. "Why aren't you drinking that much?"

"Heading out on a mission with Izzy tomorrow evening," Idaho answered without elaborating- that was enough of an explanation.

Clint came back with an entire tray full of shot glasses filled with a clear liquid. "Hope you like vodka," he said with a smirk. "It's Natasha's usual."

"My favourite's Sambukka," Idaho chirped in.

"That's because you're weird," Hunter retorted before looking at Clint. "One for one? Whoever passes out, drops out, or throws up first loses."

"This'll be interesting," Idaho muttered, bring out his camera. Despite his earlier statement, he took one the shots himself. "Go."

Clint picked up his first and tipped it into his mouth. Followed by Hunter. They continued like this for a while, with Idaho's camera pointed at the both of them. Somewhere around the seventh-or was it eighth?-shot Clint pulled out his phone and typed something quickly into it before drinking his next one like it was nothing.

"Who you texting? Your missus?" Hunter asked, meaning Natasha as he paused for a second before picking up another shot and downing it.

"Natasha," Clint nodded. "Figured she'd want to know about this." He glanced down at his phone again and grinned. "Oh, look. She put fifty bucks on me." He downed his next one without missing a beat.

"Great, Bob's gunna be pissed," Hunter muttered mainly to himself as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, but didn't stop to look at it- he was not going to lose. He brought two shots up to his mouth and downed them both at the same time. Idaho picked up another one of the shots and downed it.

"Cute trick," Clint said, drinking another two in quick succession. "Bobbi teach you that?" He consulted his phone again. "Nat says Bobbi says she's going to kill you, and Hill just put another twenty on me. Oh hey, Hartley put a hundred on you though."

Hunter smirked, "Tell Natasha and Hill that I'm sorry they lost their money, but it's your fault. Izzy is right, I am going to win." He gloated before taking another shot. "You ready to quit yet, before they add more useless money on you?"

"Hmm." Clint grinned at his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. "Nope, not even close, Hunter. I was serious about Natasha and me. Back when we first became partners, we had a bit of a power struggle going on as she tried to figure out what her role with S.H.I.E.L.D. and with me was- it led to her trying to drink me under the table multiple times. Emphasis on _trying_." He gulped down another. "I've lost count. You?"

"Lost count? I think you're getting drunk," Hunter teased.

"From this batch, you're both on eleven," Idaho informed them.

"Me?" Clint raised an eyebrow. "Listen to yourself, you're the one starting to slur."

"Well, you sound like you've got your knickers in a twist," Hunter responded, pulling an undignifying expression.

Clint smiled. "If I knew what 'knickers' were in real English, I might be able to agree with you."

"Panties," Idaho supplied, taking another shot for himself.

Hunter scoffed. "And here I thought you knew multiple languages," he mocked him.

"Я, Lance Hunter, и я хотел бы сообщить вам, что вы мудак, в безупречном русском," Clint replied with a smirk.

"And yet you didn't know what knickers were," Hunter tutted. Idaho smirked.

"That's because here in America we speak English that doesn't make us sound like douchebags," Clint informed him, drinking a another shot. He glanced down at his phone, then smiled to himself, typing something in. He picked up another shot.

"Dude, we're on a guys night out-put the damn phone away," Hunter muttered, downing another shot. "You're such a buzz-kill."

"I'm sorry you're not important enough to S.H.I.E.L.D. to be needed to be on-call 24/7, Hunter," he replied. "But if it makes you happy…" He slipped the phone into his pocket.

Hunter stood up. "I'll get us some better drinks. Might as well enjoy this. Vodka is so boring," he muttered, walking over to the bar without waiting for a response. He ordered some sour shots and returned.

Clint turned to Idaho. "Is he always this sullen when he gets drunk?" Idaho didn't replied, just smirked.

Hunter rolled his eyes. "I'm not sullen."

"Could've fooled me."

"You're just rubbish company, this is why you're not in my wedding party," Hunter informed him, taking one of his own shots.

Clint grinned. "Yes, that's exactly why you barred me from it. It has _nothing_ to do with your fear that Bobbi's gonna remember that she really loves me after all and leave you at the altar." He was definitely slurring now, to Hunter's satisfaction.

Hunter scoffed. "You already lost her, dude. Just accept that; she chose me! Face it! You weren't good enough for her." He took another shot, hitting Idaho in the arm perhaps harder than he meant to. "Right, mate?"

"Sure," Idaho muttered, his camera still out.

Clint glared at the other man. "You know as well as I do that he's just projecting his own insecurities onto me. Bobbi and I dated for..like less than a month. Five years ago."

"Then let her go dude! Stop being so possessive over her life! You ain't her brother, or her boyfriend, or her father, so stop acting like it and back off. She don't need you. You're _just_ her friend and teammate, nothing more. Got it?"

Clint tapped his shot glass against the empty one sitting in front of Idaho even though he wasn't holding it up. "To the death of grammar!" He knocked it back. "I don't know what kind of pathetic friends you've had over your life, Hunter, but looking out for each other is kinda what friends do. No offense Idaho." He picked up another. "And you wouldn't know, because the word 'loyalty' is meaningless to you, but sometimes 'partner' means a lot more than 'father' or 'brother' or 'boyfriend.'" He slammed the shot glass back down on the table. "A hell of a lot more."

Hunter took three shots during Clint's speech. "And sometimes it means fuck all!" He exclaimed, holding up his shot glasses, "To Bobbi, who doesn't need _you_ in her life!"

Clint's eyes unfocused and slipped past him, towards the door. "Speaking of Bobbi…" he slurred.

Hunter and Idaho whipped around. "Shit," they muttered simultaneously.

Hunter turned to Clint. "You little rat," he muttered, quickly drinking the shot in his hand and pushing the empty shot glasses in front of Idaho.

"I didn't tell Bobbi where we were," Clint shrugged. "Big Brother is watching."

Another second and she was standing in front of their booth, expression murderous. Hill, Izzy, and Natasha filed in behind her. "Just what do you think you're doing, Lance?" she asked dangerously. Maria flanked her, looking stern, but Izzy looked like she was about to burst out laughing and even Natasha held a small smirk.

"Bonding?" Hunter asked, guiltily.

"With what, liver disease?" Bobbi asked, swiping one of the few untouched shot glasses across the table so that it was out of his reach. "And you, Clint…"

"I take exactly 50% of the blame," the archer informed her.

"Idaho and I take 25% each," Hunter quipped in cheekily.

Idaho's eyes widened, "Yeah, I didn't participate, how about I take no blame?"

"You didn't stop them, either," Maria pointed out helpfully.

"10," Idaho said pointed to himself, before pointing to Clint and Hunter, "45?"

"Fifty, thirty-five, and fifteen," Natasha said, pointing to Hunter, Clint, and then Idaho. Her tone was not one Hunter particularly wanted to argue with.

Izzy smiled, coming right up to the edge of the table and, using both hands, jabbed each of them hard in the stomach. Hunter managed to bat her hand away as it receded while Clint attempted to slam down on it but ended up slapping the table instead. Hartley grinned. "I think we have a winner." She turned to Natasha and Hill. "You owe me fifty and twenty."

"Ow!" Clint protested, glaring up at her.

Natasha whacked him upside the head. "Don't get that drunk then, Hawkeye."

Hunter grinned triumphantly. "I guess you're not that much of a threat after all." He laughed but slowly sobered as he noticed Bobbi's glare. "What? I won that fairly."

"You know you always lost against me," Natasha continued.

Bobbi looked daggers at Hunter. "A drinking competition is both reckless and stupid. Both of you, out of here, now. And find your own ways home." She spared a glance at Izzy. "And you're not helping either, encouraging them, _Isabelle_."

Hunter quickly stood up, everybody blurring for a while. He rested his hand on the table to steady himself, "Wait, c'mon Bob. Don't be like this. Bob, I love you. Let's go home 'gether." He took her arm lightly.

She shook him off. "No, we're staying a while and having fun. Wedding planning is hell."

"Hear, hear," Izzy chimed in.

"Hey!" Maria yelped.

Bobbi turned Hunter in the direction of the door and gave him a small push. Natasha lugged Clint up by the arm and did the same thing once he was on his feet.

"Whatever," Hunter muttered, turning to Clint. The alcohol was kicking in with a vengeance now, but he was still somewhat functional. "Girls, eh?"

" _Women_ ," Clint agreed. He took a step forward, nearly falling on his face until he caught himself on the next table over. The couple sitting there gave him dirty looks.

"Shut up, you fat cows," Hunter muttered as he took Clint's arm and pulled him upright again.

"Thanks," Clint muttered, walking-lurching-toward the door with him.

Hunter nodded. "Yeah, only I getta look at ya like that." Managing to get them both through the deathtrap this establishment called a door and to the outside, he looked around. "Where'd Idaho go?" he asked, looking around and almost falling over himself.

"Dunno," Clint slurred. "Took 'ff, I guess."

Hunter tisked. "How we home then? TAXI!"

Clint snorted, nearly doubling over with laughter. "There're no taxis in sight, genius."

"Do I gotta do everything?" Hunter muttered, slurring nearly incoherently. "Home's this way, not a long walk."

Clint nearly tripped into the gutter. "We're not walking. We just gotta-there's one!" He pointed randomly out into the street and almost lost his balance yet again, but there was indeed a taxi heading their way, barely visible except as headlights until it cruised closer. Hunter dimly supposed S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't call him "Hawkeye" for nothing.

He raised his arm like a school child. "TAXI!"

It pulled up next to them and Clint tugged open the door, almost falling backwards when it took more effort to open than he'd expected. "After you, your Highness."

Hunter caught Clint and then clambered into the taxi, muttering his address three times.

Clint attempted to slide in next to him but hit his head on the roof of the car. "Ow," he said, surprise colouring his face. He put a hand on the edge of the doorframe. "How long has this been here?"

"Like… two seconds," Hunter suggested. "How'd you get drunk? You are you." He muttered, pulling Clint into the cab.

Clint collapsed into it, pulling out his seatbelt and managing to buckle it after several tries. "Seatbelt," he pointed to Hunter's. "Bobbi'd kill me if you got killed in a collision. Even if I'm not the one drivin'."

"Yeah yeah yeah…" It took him even more tries, the cab driver waiting impatiently up front.

"You know what else you should know 'bout Bobbi before you go off gettin' hitched?" Clint asked. "She doesn't need me. An' she doesn't need you. She doesn't need either of us. She jus' likes having us around, in her life. 'Cause she likes both of us and Hartley and Idaho and Nat and Hill a lot."

Hunter smiled drunkenly. "That was deep, man. Deep."

And then they both burst into peals of laughter. Up front, the driver clicked another button on his meter but Hunter couldn't bring himself to care, adding another five dollars to their total. "Damn drunks," he muttered.

* * *

Bobbi walked through the door and tossed her coat to the side, the other girls coming in behind her. "Is it just me, or is it oddly quiet?" Hartley asked, collecting her stuff from the couch in preparation to leave.

"It is," Bobbi agreed. "Hunter?" There was no answer.

"Maybe they didn't make it home?" Maria asked worriedly. "It's been two hours since we saw them get into that taxi…"

"Maybe they killed each other en route," Natasha suggested. "From the way they were going at it right as we arrived, it was surprising to see them get into the same cab at all."

Bobbi made her way to the hallway and then the bedroom, pushing the door-which was ajar-open slightly. Natasha stopped behind her, just as startled by the sight as she was. Clint and Hunter were both fast asleep on the bed, it looked as though Hunter had started to undress before falling horizontally onto the bed. Clint, for some reason, was spread out on the bed too, at least two of his limbs crossing over Hunter. "Well that's just disturbing."

"Shh," Hartley said, peeking in over their shoulders. She held up her phone, snapping a picture, then turned to Bobbi. "Please tell me you have a video camera set up in your bedroom, Bobbi, because I _need_ to see the expressions on their faces when they wake up tomorrow morning."

"Of course there's not," Bobbi said, making a face.

"Then we have a trip to the S.H.I.E.L.D. surveillance division to make," Hartley grinned, walking back to the living room. "Hill, you have an all-access keycard, right?"

"What rule-breaking am I aiding and abetting this time?" Maria sighed tiredly. She listened as Izzy told her. "Okay, that might actually be worth losing my badge over. I'm in."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **My co-writer, Sanctuaria, would like to mention that she does not condone the consumption of alcohol, especially in the dangerously high quantities which Hunter and Clint do here.**

 **And nor do I. Please drink reasonably and do not use Hunter nor Clint as role models in this chapter.**


	9. Just normal couple things

**Author's note:**

 **Another long chapter, over four thousand words!**

 **Grossly-Sweet: Thank you for your continued support! You're amazing!**

 **Princess2016: Thank you very much for your support and reviews! It means so much to me!**

 **Sanctuaria: My lovely co-writer and beta! You're superb :D**

 **Can't think of anything else to say, except, I hope you enjoy this chapter; it was my favourite to write :D**

* * *

As she dried her hands on the towel it rubbed against the small bandaged cut on her hand, courtesy of her last mission. With a sigh, Bobbi headed into the bathroom to reapply the antibiotic ointment and wrap it again. The stitches—just three, and just as a precaution—were small, black, and neat, but she still didn't like looking at them on the flesh of her palm, so she finished up as quickly as she could.

Hunter walked into the bathroom. "Hey Bob, I need a shower," he announced, having just gotten home from S.H.I.E.L.D. looking pretty filthy. He had brown streaks running up and down his clothing and even in his hair.

"Feel free," she wrinkled her nose. "What happened to you?"

"Apparently crawling through mud is a punishment for talking back to Hand," Hunter replied with a shrug as he turned the shower on and looked at her. "Would you like to j—-what happened to your hand?"

"Just hit the wrong end of a knife blade, nothing much," Bobbi told him. "The medics said it would probably have healed just fine on its own, but just to be safe…" She held up her bandaged hand.

Hunter frowned at the injury before looking up at her. "Are you okay?" he asked, turning her hand over to examine both sides for absolutely no reason. Rolling her eyes, she twisted past him while keeping her injured hand in his grip so that she could turn the water off, which was plenty hot-no sense wasting it if he was going to dink around longer instead of getting in. For one thing, he was still fully dressed.

"Come on, Lance, I just re-wrapped that," she complained playfully. "Now, were you offering a joint shower or what?"

Hunter looked at her directly. "Yes, I was!" he confirmed. Hunter cleared his throat dramatically. "Would you like to join me in the shower?"

"Nah, I have work to do," Bobbi replied, turning away quickly so he wouldn't catch her smile.

"It might be your last chance for a while!" Hunter informed her calmly as he removed his top and threw it in the laundry basket.

She spun to face him, smile replaced by a frown of confusion. "Wait, why?"

"Day after tomorrow I have to go on this twelve day intensive course. They didn't tell me what I'd be doing though, just that I probably wouldn't be able to contact anybody during it," Hunter replied as he kicked off his shoes. "So, want to join me?"

"Mm, I suppose…" Bobbi teased. "If it's going to be _twelve_ days…"

Hunter grinned, "If you can handle twelve days, you don't _have_ to." He teased right back as she removed the rest of his clothing and stepped into the shower. "We always have the bed once I've cleaned the mud out of my hair and off my body." He turned it on again, warm spray already beginning to make clean streaks through the mud.

She smiled. "Who's to say we can't do both?"

"It _is_ possible to love you more," Hunter murmured. "Are you planning to come in fully dressed?"

"I thought you normally liked undressing me…" Bobbi said in a teasing tone.

Hunter licked his lips before turning towards the nozzle, washing his hands in the shower before turning back to her. He approached her with a smile, his hands resting on his hips as he planted a small kiss on her lips, and then, with a smile, he slowly pulled her into the shower fully clothed. "You're right, I do."

"I'm going to kill you," Bobbi replied. She damn him for getting her clothes wet, but, well-nothing to be done about that now, and Hunter had that look deep in his eyes that she couldn't simply pushed him against the wall and kissed him. It took longer to get her clothes off now that they were wet, but it didn't hold either of them back.

* * *

Hunter was walking the halls of the S.H. .D. base having just finished in the infirmary after finishing a training session—apparently, you had to wait until the end of the session before getting the gash on your arm looked at. To quote Hand, 'If you're not dying, you're not done'. He was mostly only annoyed at the fact that he received the gash from a recruit who was supposed to be fighting another recruit across the room—apparently, she freaked out so much that she retreated backwards waving her arms with her knife still in her hand. All Hand said to Hunter about it was that he needed to focus on his surroundings more—it took everything in him to tell her that he was more focused on his dueling partner who was holding bigger knives, whilst he only had a long wooden stick to defend himself with.

She hadn't been pleased.

He rounded a corner—on his way to one of the classrooms to read up on the administration side of S.H. .D., mainly the rules and regulations—when he spotted Barton. He slowed for a moment as he contemplated avoiding the guy; however, his first official meet with the archer ran through his head and he decided to walk over to him. "Hey Clint, what you doing?" he asked conversationally, trying his hardest to be nice.

"Hey, Hunter," Clint greeted him curiously. Hunter could tell from the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly that he hadn't expected him to say hello at all and was trying to figure out why he did. "Just on my way to a meeting, but it doesn't start for another half an hour."

He nodded, trying to look as interested as possible. "Turning up early, good for you," he said overly supportively.

Clint gave him a blank look.

"Okay, I need a favour," Hunter admitted.

"I'm listening," Barton said in a neutral tone.

Hunter took a breath as he glanced down the hall, wondering if it was too late to walk off, but he turned back. "You're obviously very close to Bobbi; you're like her family." He groaned inwardly at the thought, a frown on his lips. "Would you like to be my groomsman…and not tell Bobbi about it? So it can be a surprise for the wedding?" His words came out more quickly near the end due to him wanting to get them out before he changed his mind.

The spy looked at him, surprised, studying his face as if to discern his true intentions. Then he smiled. "I would be honored to, Hunter."

Hunter nodded with a small smile, "Great. One little question, as my groomsman—what am I supposed to do for a wedding?"

Clint laughed. "Luckily for you, it's pretty simple: whatever your future bride tells you to. Universal rule."

"I can do that… I think," Hunter responded. "Right, see you around. And remember, don't tell Bob." He began to turn away to walk off.

"I won't," Clint promised. Hunter kept walking. "But Hunter, if this is only for Bobbi's sake...am I still invited to the bachelor party?"

Hunter laughed without stopping or turning around. "You'll have to ask my best mate Idaho, he's planning it."

* * *

Bobbi was laying in bed, reading a mission review for an upcoming op, relaxed but very, very bored. She heard footsteps seconds before a key entered the lock and the door creaked open. It was past midnight. Perhaps it was Hunter, finally back from his training exercise— _eleven days late_? Nevertheless she quietly closed her folder and set the classified documents on the floor, shifting them carefully under her bed. Then she gently opened the drawer of her nightstand to pull out a handgun, raising it and pointing it at her bedroom door—just in case.

The door swung open and Hunter trudged in, surprisingly clean with white standard clothes on, his wrist bandaged, a band-aid on his head, and bags under his eyes. He looked at her, glanced at the gun and then back at her, and smiled. "Hey, Bob. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"I'm a night owl," Bobbi said in reply, putting away the gun with a smile. She replaced the classified files back on the bed before slipping out of it to greet him with a kiss. "So, ten days, huh?"

Hunter kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her. "That is what they said originally—they took our phones, and I still haven't gotten mine back."

"Ah, the yearly cellphone auction," Bobbi nodded knowledgeably. "Yeah, you're never getting that back. But the good news is, since it was relatively new, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s charities will receive quite a bit of money this year."

Hunter leant back, his arms still around her. "You're joking, right?"

Bobbi smiled. "Unfortunately, no. It's tradition. Besides, most of the auction proceeds go to the Widows and Orphans Fund, so it's not like you're not supporting a good cause."

"Well, that's bloody brilliant then," He replied shaking his head. "Do we have any beers?" he asked her as he moved on hand from her waist to rub his tired eyes.

She laughed. "Lance, the last thing you look to need right now is a beer. Come on, get ready for bed so you can join me." Bobbi smiled. "I've missed sleeping next to you while you were gone. It's different when I'm on a mission...but this bed just doesn't feel right without you here."

Hunter smiled softly at her, kissing her cheek. "Okay, bed it is," he agreed stepping away from her. He started towards the drawers but ended up just stripping down to his boxers—which revealed a few bruises on his torso and multiple smaller bruises on his legs. "Ready," he announced with a smile directed at her. She climbed back into bed with him following her, pulling the covers over them both.

Bobbi ran her thumb lightly over the bruise on his torso. "What happened here?"

"You know, I'm not even sure," Hunter admitted as he cuddled up to her, his eyes already closing slowly as he began to become more comfortable.

"Best kind of injury," she commented, pressing a kiss to his bare chest a safe distance away from the bruise. "And now, maybe we can make some marks of our own..." She looked up to find Hunter already fast asleep. Bobbi just sighed and snuggled her head up against his chest once more, closing her eyes.

There was always tomorrow night.

* * *

Hunter groaned as he pulled away from Bobbi, hitting his alarm on to snooze for the third time that morning, he instantly rolled back towards her and pulled her back into his arms. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" Bobbi murmured sleepily, not opening her eyes.

"No," Hunter muttered, wrapping his arms around her a little more securely, as if he was stopping an unknown force from taking her.

"You sure?" Bobbi mumbled, wanting more than anything to just go back to sleep. It was her day off, after all...but she had a sinking feeling if she didn't get Hunter out of bed he never would, and _that_ thought was the one slowly waking her up.

"Mmmhmm, go back to sleep," Hunter replied, rubbing her back soothingly.

"Wish I could, but the thought of you getting kicked out of S.H.I.E.L.D. for being late is keeping me up…" Bobbi murmured.

Hunter sighed softly. "I'd rather spend one morning with you than a lifetime at S.H.I.E.L.D." He placed a kiss on her forehead and unwrapped his arms from her. "Priorities are important to me."

Bobbi smiled in spite of herself before opening her eyes and fixing her face into a stern expression. "You have to go, Lance."

"Didn't I join S.H.I.E.L.D. to spent _more_ time with you?" Hunter questioned lightly before sliding out of bed and walking into the bathroom.

"Yes. And you have to make it through the initiation process before you become and agent and we can work together," she reminded him. "That means _not_ pissing off Agent Hand unnecessarily."

"Maybe I'll buy her chocolates; which ones are her favourite?" Hunter asked from the bathroom.

"The kind that are bribery-free," Bobbi replied with a smirk.

Hunter walked out with a smirk. "In that case, I think I'm going to fail the initiation," he joked.

"You'd better not. I have money riding on you," she muttered, burying her face in her pillow again.

After dressing, he leant onto the bed and kissed her back. "Guess I best get to S.H.I.E.L.D. then; I don't want you losing any money because of me."

"I'll be here when you get home," Bobbi told him. "Have fun."

"I'll try. I love you," Hunter replied before grabbing his bag and leaving.

"Love you too," Bobbi murmured, unsure if he could even hear her anymore. Then she smiled, turned over, and promptly fell back asleep.

* * *

Hunter ducked into the room, "Dakini, we've got to..." he stopped suddenly at the sight in front of him. Agent Dakini was standing over a young women, blood on his hands. He stared with horror as the young woman's neck was snapped.

"How about we leave that out of the report?," Dakini said, wiping some of the blood off his hands.

"You just—I can't leave that out," Hunter replied, white-faced.

Dakini grasped his shoulder, stopping his backing away as his fingers dug into Hunter's skin. "Do we have a problem, here? I thought you were part of the team."

Hunter managed to pull out of his grasp, knowing he was going to get bruises. He shook his head. "You're crazy!" he spluttered out. "I thought this was an extraction mission…not a…!"

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stop talking," Dakini warned, raising his gun at Hunter.

"I never knew what was good for me… no point starting now," he retorted seconds before being knocked out from a blow to the back of the head.

* * *

Hunter woke up with a searing headache and soon found his eyes didn't focus right, with everything around him fuzzy. He blinked several times trying to get them to adjust before feeling something prodding his right arm and looked in that direction, still a little bleary-eyed but getting better. "What's going on?"

"You had a bit of trouble on a mission; do you remember what happened?" a nurse asked him.

Hunter looked around, noting Darren, Dakini, and a few other agents he couldn't quite recall the names of standing around. "What mission?" he asked, looking back to the nurse.

"What's the last thing you recall?" a senior agent asked him.

He racked his brain trying to remember, and in the end he answered truthfully. "Getting kicked out of the bed by Bob." He was sure he saw a smile on the man's lips, but his head hurt too much to work out why.

"You can head home," the man said, turning to the other agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. afterwards. "See if we can find this 'Bob' for him."

"Bobbi Morse," Hunter elaborated, wanting to be helpful. Plus he wanted Bobbi.

That seemed to get the senior agent's interest. "The Mockingbird? I am impressed. We'll get her to drop by when she's free and take you home—with a concussion like that, you shouldn't be driving." With that, he walked out.

"What happened?"

"No idea, found you on the ground knocked out, surprised they didn't kill you—carried you back to the Quinjet myself," Dakini answered.

Hunter attempted a smile, although the pain in his head seemed to make his facial muscles reluctant to respond. "Thanks, I owe you one."

* * *

Bobbi was writing a comment on the report she was working on when the door opened. She exchanged glances with Hill, who was working with her, and then looked at the agent who'd just walked inside.

"Bobbi Morse?" the agent inquired. "I was asked to collect you."

"What is this about?" Hill asked, standing up. "We are in the middle of an important discussion.

Bobbi wasn't going to tell the younger agent that the 'important discussion' wasn't primarily S.H.I.E.L.D. related.

"My apologies, Agent Hill- But I was told it was important."

"What is it?" Bobbi asked, wondering what would be so important that they would interrupt a meeting with the second-in-command.

"You've been requested to take another agent home- an Agent Lance Hunter," he told her, looking at a piece of paper.

"What do you mean, take him home?" she asked, possibilities beginning to run rampant through her head.

"He received a concussion on a mission, ma'am, and isn't allowed to drive," the agent informed her, looking back down at the paper. "But they don't need to keep him overnight."

"Where is he?" Bobbi demanded.

"Bay Four."

"Go," Hill told her taking the file from her.

"Thanks," Bobbi muttered, heading out the door. She walked quickly to medical, then followed the signs to Bay Four. It was where they put the less severely injured-concussions, minor scrapes and abrasions, three stitches or less-so she'd never been there before. Bobbi usually just dealt with that kind of thing herself. But when it was Hunter… Her walking speed sped up. She couldn't help but be worried about him. "There you are!" She spotted him sitting down in one of the chairs, a wrist bandaged up and unfocused look in his eye but otherwise there were no obvious injuries.

He looked up instantly at her voice. "Bob? Hey! Sorry to drag you away from important work, I'm just…" he drifted off. "It feels like my Mum's been called to pick me up from school when I'm ill- but you showed so quickly! I feel like you _just_ kicked me out of bed."

"You're my little kindergartener," Bobbi rolled her eyes. "You okay?"

Hunter nodded. "Can we just go home? I have the worst headache… and a huge bump to prove it," he replied rubbing his head as he stood up, looking around somewhat confusedly.

"Yeah, come on," Bobbi said, gesturing him towards the exit. "Hill said, 'Go,' so I'm going to interpret that as 'Here, have the rest of the day off.'"

"She's nice; I'm glad she's your friend. She hates me, you know?" Hunter told her as he took her hand.

Bobbi scoffed. "Maria does not hate you. _May_ hates you. And Hand too, although she's not too keen on me either."

Hunter chuckled. "But you're amazing," he muttered before falling quiet and letting her lead him out.

She turned around to look at him, smiling. "Wow, you must have gotten hit really hard. What happened, exactly?"

"I…" Hunter shrugged. "I must've hit it when you kicked me outta bed. Don't remember anything after that," he admitted.

She laughed. "You didn't hurt anything falling out of bed." They were in the parking lot now, approaching her car. "They said it happened on the mission…" Her fingers paused on the door handle. "You really don't remember anything?"

Hunter looked at her confused. "Really? I thought they were joking. I just remember… a whole lot of you…"

"Of me?" she questioned, sliding into the driver's seat.

"Yeah. Everything's coming back to me, now. Must've hit it really hard. I'll remember," Hunter replied sliding into the passenger's seat and putting on his seatbelt.

"Well, at least you still know your name and the day of the week," Bobbi sighed. "I imagine the message they sent me about you would have been much more dire had failed that test."

Hunter nodded, "It's… Tuesday right?" he questioned.

"Yeah...but didn't you have to answer that already for the med team?" Bobbi asked.

He shook his head. "No… They asked me what I remembered. Told me what happened and then… well, they said they'd get somebody to drive me home and I asked for you," he informed her. "Gave me some pain medication for the headache, too."

She frowned. "Medicine? What'd they give you? Let me see it." She held out her hand.

Hunter pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to her without any restraint. "It's just standard pain relief, I think."

She took the bottle from him, expression hardening. "Have you taken any?"

"No, not yet. They injected me with something that was going to help- hasn't kicked in yet," Hunter answered. "Are we driving yet? Because I'm nearly sure we're not moving."

She made no move to start the car. "This doesn't make any sense? Injected you? That's not standard procedure for a concussion, and neither is not checking cognitive abilities. And these?" She held up his pills almost angrily. "Ibuprofen. The exact thing you're _not_ supposed to take with a concussion."

"Must have been a mix-up, then. Got me mixed up with somebody else. Honestly, it's not a big deal, I won't take them…I'll just…sleep off the headache," Hunter replied, placing a hand over hers.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has the best doctors in the world," Bobbi shook her head. "They don't make mistakes like this. Something's not right-I need to talk to whoever treated you."

"Bob, c'mon. I just want to go home, they said I could," Hunter insisted, rubbing the back of his head again with his free hand.

"They also said you could take painkillers that could cause internal bleeding in your head!" She looked at him furiously, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Lance. I'll take you home first and then make some inquiries from there." She started the car.

Hunter nodded, "Okay. Thanks, Bob. I love you."

"And we have some acetaminophen at home which you can take," Bobbi added, pulling out of the parking lot.

He smiled, "And now I love you even more! I thought you might have forced me to suffer with this headache."

She smiled, taking her right hand off the steering wheel to clasp his on the center console. "I love you too."

* * *

Hunter was draped across her lap where she had been stroking his hair-and subtly checking his wound, she was sneaky like that-and now fast asleep. She typed on her laptop with one hand while the other was still splayed across his head, her thumb resting gently on the tip of his ear. She messaged Hill. _You in a meeting?_

 _Not an important one,_ came Hill's immediate reply.

 _Sitwell?_

 _Sitwell._

 _K. I need access to Hunter's medical file. Take too long to go through the official channels._

 _Come on in and you can have it._

 _Can't. Told Hunter I wouldn't leave him while he was sleeping. He's such a kindergartener sometimes._

 _Remind me again why you agreed to marry him? Sending the file now._

 _Thanks._

Bobbi opened it up, scanning over the document quickly. At the end of it was a list of all his recent visits to the S.H.I.E.L.D. infirmary, and sure enough there was one for today. A doctor Mark Heinzman. She clicked on his name to open his profile. _Maria, can you get me the direct number of Dr. Mark Heinzman?_

 _(966) 555 4522._

 _You're the best._ Bobbi dialed it, then listened to it ring as she waited for him to pick up.

"Dr. Heizman." He agreed as he answered after four rings.

"This is Bobbi Morse, calling about a patient you treated earlier at the Hub," she said. "We had some questions about what his treatment. Name's Lance Hunter."

"Lance Hunter… doesn't ring a bell. Can you describe which broken bone I treated, it's been a long day," he replied.

"Not a broken bone at all," Bobbi said. "A concussion from a blow to the head. It would have been around...eleven o'clock in Med Bay Four."

"Sorry, I think you've got the wrong doctor. I haven't treated anybody with a concussion today, only a few broken legs, fractured scapula, broken fingers, a few dislocations… but no head wounds," Heizman listed.

"Well, I'm calling because the treatment he was given was completely wrong for a concussion, but your name's in his medical file. Is it possible he was misdiagnosed somehow?"

"If he got a blow to the head, a lot of nurses tell them it could be a concussion- the work could might have been missed," Heizman answered. "We got a few new nurses and doctors in the last few months, they were probably just being cautious. If you bring him in tomorrow, I work from 2pm- I'll be happy to check him over again."

"He's fine now, thank you," Bobbi said, frowning. "Thank you for your time." She hung up, then looked down at the sleeping man in her lap. "What the hell happened to you?" she muttered.

Hunter opened one eye, looking up at her. "I probably hit my head on the ceiling, because I'm so tall… you get it?" he attempted to joke.

"No, and you're not helping your 'I'm fine' case," Bobbi told him.

"I _am_ fine," Hunter insisted.

"I'm still not letting you out of the house until that lump on your head is gone," Bobbi promised. "And maybe not even then."

Hunter chuckled, "I like the sound of that. Think S.H.I.E.L.D.'ll go for it?"

"Maybe. But sex is also off the table while you're healing." She'd be lying if she claimed that statement wasn't meant to bait him a little.

"You know, I think I'm completely healed," he grinned up at her. "Like nothing even happened!" She pokes him in the lump. "Ouch! Jeez!" Hunter grunted in pain, gently hitting her hand away as he recoiled. "Tomorrow, I'm sure tomorrow I'll be completely healed" he amended.

"Mm-hmm, we'll see," Bobbi smiled. "But I still want to look into—"

Hunter sat himself up. "No. You've got a free half-day off. Maybe we could catch up on some sleep? Or you could do something you don't usually have the time off," he smiled at her. "There's no point looking into me banging my head. I've done worse damage in a bar drinking."

She sighed. "Fine. It was probably a simple mix-up anyway. And remember you said that when I never let you anywhere near a bar again."

Hunter pulled a face but didn't respond. He simply laid back down.

* * *

 **-Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it and I'll love a review if you have time :)**


	10. Saturday, Uninterrupted

**Author's note:**

 **Good morning/afternoon/evening/night! I hope you are all well!**

 **Big thank you to grossly-sweet and Princess2016 who reviewed the last chapter! You two are the best! :D**

 **I won't blabber on, I'll save that for the end!**

* * *

Hunter awoke, then checked the time to discover that both he and Bobbi were still in bed, uninterrupted, on a Saturday at 9:20am. In the last few weeks, one of them had been called into S.H.I.E.L.D.—Hunter for his training and Bobbi for a mission—instead of either of them truly getting to sleep in. He wasn't sure if they were unlucky or if somebody had planned it that way, but it usually happened before eight in the morning. As he rolled onto his side, he hoped their good luck would stick with them and neither of them were disturbed today. He's missed spending a whole day with Bobbi like they used to quite frequently when she wasn't on mission. He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed her forehead, wondering why she hadn't gotten up yet, as she was usually up by now. "Good morning."

"Mmph."

Hunter smiled against her forehead. "Are you going to stay in bed all day? If so, I'll go get some snacks."

"Mmph." Other than the sound, Bobbi remained as motionless as before.

Hunter placed the back of his hand against her head. Normal. "Are you sick? Or just tired?" he questioned, concern lacing his voice.

She finally flipped over, lying on her back with her eyes still closed. "Mission was crap. Seventy-two hours without sleep, a lot of it running for our lives. Gonna kill Garrett." Her eyes opened. "His team was the one that had provided the intel. Bad intel. Awful, almost-got-us-all-killed intel."

"I like Garrett; he's the only one that lets me go on missions," Hunter replied, his arm draped over her waist. "Want me to kill him for you? So you don't get kicked out of S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"Eh, Fury'll let me off," she muttered. "Oh, wait, he was Garrett's SO. So maybe not." She sighed grumpily. "The cockroach lives."

Hunter laughed. "I guess we're having a pyjama day," he declared before pulling the covers over her a bit more. He started to talk again but was interrupted by Bobbi.

"What's a pajama day?" Bobbi asked.

He looked at her with wide eyes, "You… you don't… It's when you spend the entire day in pyjamas. You stay at home, relax, watch movies and chill out."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she lifted up the edge of the covers. "Yeah, but Hunter—you're not wearing any pajamas."

A heartfelt laugh left his throat, "Well, obviously I'll throw some on. Unless you wanted to do a naked day—but then we'd have to make sure all of the curtains were closed."

"I don't," she snorted.

Hunter leant away from her before sliding out of bed and opening a drawer. He grabbed some pyjama shorts—which he'd never actually worn before—and slipped them on before sliding back into bed. "Better?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Mm, I think I liked you better before," she teased. His only response was to place a kiss on her lips. "So, what did you want to do today?" she asked when he broke away. "Any specific movie? Or maybe we could have breakfast first. Another thing Garrett's op lacked—decent food."

Hunter smiled. "Pancakes? Waffles? Full-English breakfast? Granola? Cereal? Porridge? We can have whatever breakfast you want," he told her sweetly.

"I have a craving for blueberry muffins…" Bobbi said. "Do we have any frozen blueberries?"

Hunter raised an eyebrow, "Frozen blueberries… I don't think so, but I've found weirder things in the freezer."

She laughed. "Why do I feel like that was aimed at me? What weird things have you found in the freezer?"

"Nothing," Hunter replied with a shake of his head. "It might just be an American thing, ignore me."

"Tell me!" she insisted, genuinely curious.

He laughed, "Well, for starters, I've never known anybody to freeze fruit—so I'd never find blueberries in the freezer. Also, I am pretty sure some of the leftovers you've frozen were… not edible."

She looked flabbergasted. "You don't buy frozen fruit? Then how do you make homemade smoothies?"

"With fresh fruit, not frozen fruit," Hunter answered as if it were obvious.

"...then it's not frozen," Bobbi said confusedly. "We're talking like a Jamba Juice smoothie here."

"It's weird to freeze fruit, full stop. I've never understood that. Besides, it's fresher when it's not frozen," Hunter replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Fresher, yes," she agreed. "But not a _smoothie_."

"I was never one for smoothies anyway," he shrugged.

She shook her head. "You're not knocking it until you've tried one of mine."

Hunter raised one arm in surrender. "As you wish. I will try one of your smoothies."

"Then you can start some waffles while I shower. And then I'll make us smoothies and some blueberry muffins if I can scrounge up the ingredients," she told him.

"You don't need to shower; we're not going anywhere," Hunter spoke as he sat up and stretched his arms.

"I want to," she said. "I only took a cursory one last night before falling into bed. I think I still have dirt under my fingernails. But...you're welcome to join if you want…"

Hunter didn't hide the smile on his face. "Next time, I won't bother getting dressed," he said before sliding out of bed and removing the pyjama bottoms he put on ten minutes ago. "Ready when you are."

"Ready," Bobbi replied, sliding her legs out of bed and standing up. He walked up to her, one arm going around her back and the other grabbing her legs as he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. He kicked the door closed behind them.

* * *

It was an hour later when they finally emerged from the bathroom, both wearing some form of pyjamas or loungewear. With the memory of their previous conversation, Hunter sauntered over into the kitchen and began pulling out ingredients for waffles and muffins; even though he wasn't the best cook, he was actually a pretty good baker—most of the time anyway. "Did you want me to just get out the blueberries for you? We have cherries in the refrigerator," he asked Bobbi as she walked into the kitchen not long after him.

"Yeah, just blueberries," Bobbi nodded.

He gave a swift nod as he double checked he had all of the ingredients out for both waffles and muffins. "We should have muffins and waffles at our wedding," he stated randomly.

She laughed. "Is it going to be in the morning?"

Hunter shook his head quickly. "Definitely not, no way… maybe early afternoon? Like, three-ish?"

"Sure," she agreed. "Then a reception around five."

"Sounds good," he agreed as he began throwing the relevant ingredients into the mixing bowl.

"Until when do you think?"

Hunter thought for a moment. "Eight? It depends what time we're leaving. If we're leaving the next day, we could just head to a pub, or home."

"I was thinking midnight. Maybe eleven. And no bars," she grinned. "Am I going to have trouble keeping the champagne away from you at the reception? You know the bride and groom usually drink apple juice or something instead, right?"

"Six to seven hours for a reception and you don't want me to drink? Where's the fun in that? I want to celebrate," Hunter said, flashing her a grin. He knew then that he would definitely be sneaking a few beers in if she was serious about not supposed to be drinking.

"Oh, you're right—that is seven hours. I'll never survive that. Okay, so nine o'clock."

Hunter nodded, "Okay, but we have to make sure it ends with a bang. I don't want people preferring the night out afterwards without us than our wedding."

She gave him a look. "Should I be scared of what you might mean by 'end with a bang'?"

"Just something interesting, nothing dangerous, I swear," Hunter said as he placed the waffles on a plate.

"I'm going to have to clear whatever this is," Bobbi rolled her eyes.

Hunter chuckled. "I'll start thinking of new ideas then. Ready for breakfast?" he asked, sitting down. He would probably have to make sure the end of the reception didn't have any actual explosions—he wondered if she'd accept fireworks.

"We're inviting a bunch of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents; I seriously doubt they're going to go out partying after. And if your family does—well, that's their prerogative," Bobbi told him. "But yeah."

Hunter nodded, right, his family. "My SAS buddies will be going out, so we need to make sure _they_ don't have more fun afterwards; that's all I'm saying."

"Still not seeing how this is our problem," Bobbi laughed. She gave him a significant look over her shoulder as she headed for the table. "As long as _we'll_ be having more fun after the reception's over than they are, I don't see why it matters…"

"It's about my rep… but we'll definitely be having the better time; I promise you that," Hunter said with a massive grin plastered on his face. "If you want, I can give you a demonstration now," he offered as he stood up and slid an arm around her waist from behind, kissing her shoulder.

"We literally just did that in the shower, Hunter," she snickered, brushing him off. "Come on, I'm hungry."

Hunter laughed. "I have something you can e—" he received an elbow into the ribs before stepping back and sitting down opposite. "Just saying. What are we going to do for music? Band or DJ?"

"Band?" Bobbi said. "I honestly don't really have an opinion on that."

Hunter nodded in agreement, "I don't we'd get away with having a CD player in the corner. A band sounds nice though."

Bobbi laughed softly, "A band it is. Are there any children on your end that you want to invite?" Hunter shook his head straight away. "In that case, I think we should make it clear that no children are allowed."

"We've already got most of the RSVPs back, I presumed it was anti-children anyway," he admitted sheepishly. He thought quickly through everybody he had invited, he knew that two of his SAS buddies had children. "I will call and double check on the children thing."

"It's not anti-children yet," Bobbi pointed out as she ate some more breakfast. "What kind of band would you like?"

Hunter's brows furrowed as he thought about that question, inwardly sighing. It looked like their carefree and relaxing Saturday was turning into a productive wedding-planning day. Bloody productivity.

* * *

It was later that same Saturday, and they were still discussing the wedding, honeymoon and other related plans. Hunter and Bobbi were relaxed on the bed, a glass of water on the side and a notebook in Bobbi's hand. "Hmm...we could get away with only ten tables for the meal part of the reception, which would leave a lot more room for dancing."

"Sounds good; how many people at each table?" Hunter asked.

"Eight, so first we need to work out who will be on table number one. That's our table, so of course it will be us two, both our parents, and then your best man and my maid of honour." Bobbi paused slightly with a small smile making its way to her lips. "You know, if Clint was your best man, he could sit with Natasha."

"Idaho is my best man and my bestfriend," Hunter stated firmly. His eyes were set on the pieces of paper around the imaginary tables. "Why don't we just put Clint and Romanoff on the same table anyway?"

"She's my maid of honor; she has to be on table one. Or did you want to kick your best man off the table?"

"No, Idaho is sitting next to me. Clint can just take the place of my Mum," Hunter said casually.

Bobbi looked at him, confused. "You don't want your mom… sorry, _mum_ , on our table?" She couldn't work out why he didn't seemed bothered about that; she would be pissed if anybody suggested either of her parents should sit elsewhere.

"Yeah, why don't we each just… you can have Clint on the table and we can have… Isabelle Hartley on the table too." Hunter suggested, picking up the two pieces of paper neatly labelled 'Lance's mum' and 'Lance's dad' and put them to one side before putting the two friends he just mentioned on the table. "Wait, let's have Izzy next Idaho; I don't want Clint that close to me."

"Won't your parents be pissed being sidelined?" Bobbi asked. Something wasn't right. He hated Clint and was willing to have him on the table over his own parents? In the time she'd known him, Hunter had always seemed really close to them.

"They'd be happier near the bar," he moved their names and placed them on one of the last tables.

"Lance, what's going on?"

Hunter looked at her directly, but his eyes flicked away at the last second. He was about to lie to her. "They might not be able to come."

"You didn't invite them, did you?" Bobbi accused him, and when he didn't say anything she stared at him dumbfounded. "Why don't you want them coming to our wedding?"

"I do," Hunter replied, but then he hesitated. Something was going on and she couldn't work out what, which frustrated her. "They just might be busy."

Her feeling of foreboding was only growing stronger. "What could possibly be more important than their only son getting married?" she asked, but he didn't reply, just awkwardly looked away from her. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing," Hunter replied. "These seats aren't set yet, so… for now, Clint, Izzy, Romanoff, Idaho, us and your parents are on table one. Okay? Who did you want on table two? The other bridesmaids and groomsmen?"

Bobbi stared at him. He was changing the subject—didn't he realise they couldn't work out table two without knowing for sure who was on table one? But she groaned and went along with it, mainly because he actually looked upset for some reason. Was it possible that his parents didn't want to come to the wedding, or maybe couldn't? A bigger issue than simple rescheduling couldn't solve? Not that rescheduling the entire wedding would be simple at this point, quite the opposite...but if it meant Hunter's parents would get to be present she'd do it in a heartbeat. Bobbi had heard a lot about them, thought they were all really close—she couldn't imagine they wouldn't want to be there. "Yes, so, two bridesmaids for me and three groomsman…"

They continued with the wedding decisions, but she could tell things weren't quite right with him. At least one good thing came out from it though—he agreed to everything else she wanted without much of his signature sarcasm.

She almost missed it.

* * *

Hunter sighed, simply unable to sleep. Today had been one of the best in a while- he and Bobbi hadn't had so much time to spend much time together since he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. His idea of getting to spend more time together kinda backfired on him. He looked down at Bobbi who was asleep, knowing full well they both needed to get up in three hours, even though they were going to different bases. But he had to do this.

"Bobbi… Bob, you awake?" he asked, nudging her.

Bobbi sat up quickly at the nudge, glaring at him- she obviously knew there was no danger. "What?"

"I have to tell you something," he told her. Based on her facial expression, maybe now wasn't the right time. Waking her up was a bad idea.

Bobbi looked at him grumpily. "In the middle of the night? Are you dying?"

"No… never mind… go back to sleep," he said, changing his mind-now was really not the right time. She looked tired.

She ran her hand through her hair and blinked, propping herself up on one elbow facing him. "No, I'm awake now: what is it?"

Hunter cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well...you sure? It's… Maybe we could talk about it another time."

She gave him a look. "Spit it out, Hunter. You've already woken us both up; you might as well get it over with."

He nodded. "Right, just spit it out," he repeated. Maybe she was too tired to react. "My parents can't come to the wedding…"

"Okay, and that meant waking—" His words obviously hadn't gotten through to her yet.

"Because they're dead," Hunter interrupted her, having to get it out.

Bobbi's eyes widened as she looked at him with utter shock. "Lance, I…"

"I… I thought you should know, us getting married and everything," Hunter told her. "Which is why I'd rather not reserve any spots for them."

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" Bobbi asked him, sitting up fully and sliding closer to him, her hand taking his and lacing their fingers together.

He nodded. "Yeah… sorry I didn't tell you longer, I just…" he drifted off. She must have thought it happened recently, she'd be pissed if she knew the truth-but he couldn't lie to her; he didn't want to enter marriage keeping any secrets.

"How long has it been?" Bobbi asked him sympathetically, one hand massaging his shoulder as she kept her hand in his.

Hunter couldn't hide his guilty expression-he was sure he was going to get hit for lying. "My dad died when I was a kid and my mum died when I was nineteen… I made up everything I told you about them," he admitted, shifting away from her like he was planning on getting up from the bed.

She didn't let him get too far, wrapping her arms around him. "Oh, Lance, I'm so sorry…"

"You're not mad at me? For lying?" Hunter asked, placing one hand gently on her back, not ready to fully hug her in case she was mad.

"Of course not," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

Relief filled him as he leant down, snuggling up to her, both of them were lying there for a while-a massive burden had been lifted from him. He closed his eyes, still not tired, just content. "Thanks."

"I love you."

"Love you too, Bob, so much."

She shifted, placing her head on his chest, but knew that she didn't fall back to sleep that night-and neither did he. They just laid there in each other's embrace until it was time for them to get up and go to work.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! You're the best!**

 **We have all of what Hunter says in British English and all of what Bobbi says in American English- at least, that is how it should be. I stared at pyjama, pajama, for ages earlier. But knew I couldn't change them all to pyjama, because my co-writer (Sanctuaria) would tell me off. But there was no way I was letting it go to pajama :P Haha!**

 **I like this chapter, I almost named it the 'Calm before the Story'. Yes, you heard me, the _Calm_ before the _Storm._**

 **I'll post soon!**


	11. Jensen's Warning

**Author's Note:**

 **Ahoy! Are you ready to rumble!**

 **Thank you very much to Princess2016 and grossly-sweet for reviewing! You two are amazing! So amazing, that I didn't even have to look at my reviews or check how to spell your pennames! I just knew them! I wonder which of the two of you will review first!**

* * *

Hunter's breathing was faster than recommended and his heartbeat was borderline unhealthy, but he was determined to complete the three hour circuit which had been given to him by a level three. He wasn't sure if they were joking with him when they gave it to him, but he didn't care, anything would help. He only had to do ten more sit-ups, twenty-five more pushups and a three mile run in under thirty minutes to finish. His whole body was burning—he had decided to do the circuit on a light training day—two hours fight training in the morning, then paperwork and legislation. He had the afternoon off, but Bobbi was on a mission and due back sometime that afternoon. With a deep breath he continued doing sit-ups, feeling the sweat dripping down his forehead and soaking his back and chest even more. As the door to the gym opened, he glanced at it to see Jensen, who started at the same time as him.

Jensen was only nineteen years old, physically fit but lacking much experience with fighting. They weren't particularly close, but would meet up for extra training, mainly for Jensen's benefit. "Hey Lance," he greeted in his Texan accent as he crossed the room over to him.

"Hey, mate, what's up?" Hunter asked as he finished the set of sit ups and looked up at him. "Grab my water, will you?"

Jensen collected his water bottle and handed it to him before sitting opposite him. "Can I talk to you about something in private?"

Hunter downed the contents of his bottle and then looked at Jensen. "Sure, I'm all ears."

Jensen nodded, looking relieved. Hunter put his bottle down and decided that he could take a short break for his intense work out. "Thanks… wait, you won't kill me if I tell you, right?" he questioned, suddenly appearing nervous.

"What?" Hunter asked, completely confused. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on and wondered if he had just been pulled into a mental breakdown. "I'm not going to kill you, man."

"Sorry… it's just…" Jensen sighed and looked around.

"What's going on? What happened?"

"I think they're going to kill me. I need to get out of the country...can you help me?" Jensen asked him.

Hunter looked sideways at him. "Are you serious?" he asked, wondering what happened to make the guy so paranoid. "Did a mission go wrong? Because you're safe here," he said supportively.

"I don't want to be a part of the group, do you even know what it is, man? They are murderers and they are going to kill me—I told Garrett about my concerns and he threatened to have me killed— you gotta help me. You're my only friend."

"Calm down, Jensen… who's Garrett? What are you talking about?" Hunter demanded. The man seemed genuinely panicked and it was feeling a lot more serious than before. He did, however, have to refrain from questioning the 'only friend' part, as that didn't seem like the important part.

Jensen jumped and his breathing hitched when the doors opened and two agents walked in. Hunter remained seated and did his best to look like he'd just come off an intense workout instead of an intense—and confusing—conversation. He knew the two men to some extent—Agent Trojak rather well, and he spoken to Agent Dakini when he went on a mission with him a few weeks ago.

"Hey Lance, drinks later?" Trojak asked him, throwing him a towel.

Hunter caught the towel, and wiped his face and head. "Can't, the missus and I are supposed to finalise something for the wedding."

Trojak laughed. "You're whipped mate, where's my invite?"

"Just keep April 25th free, we haven't sent the invites yet—but we should be getting them out in a week or two," Hunter answered. He glanced at Jensen who looked like he was going to pass out. "You alright, mate?"

Jensen nodded and literally ran out of the room.

"Best hurry with them invites, it's already March," Trojak continued the conversation while ignoring the odd behaviour from the younger agent.

"Yeah, just—we've still got seven weeks, plenty of time," Hunter replied, shrugging off the comment about running out of it. He stood up and collected his bag, with the intention of finding Jensen and getting down to the root of what he was talking about. As he went to leave, he noticed Trojak walking over to him, but he got distracted when his bag buzzed. Without hesitation his hand slid into the front pocket and answered it. "Hello?" A smile made its way to his face, "Whoa, don't shower without me! I don't care that you're sweaty; I can be home in five minutes—fine, I won't break the speed limit." He rolled his eyes. "I promise. See you in twenty, love you." He looked up at Trojak who picked up his towel.

"Have a nice shower," he said with a smirk.

"Trust me, I will," Hunter said with a grin, the only thing on his mind was getting to Bobbi before she finished in the shower—which was unlikely. "See you later." He left the gym, but halted almost instantly as the conversation with Jensen moved back to his focus—Bobbi would understand. He spent a few minutes looking around before taking out his phone and calling him. No answer. He sent a text and spent another ten minutes looking for him before heading home. Surely it could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Hunter and Darren were eating pizza, it was towards the end of the day, but Hunter had a mission starting in an hour and Darren volunteered to wait with him.

"Hey, have you seen Jensen? I was looking for him all day," Hunter asked, deciding to ask around. He really wanted to talk to Jensen and get to the bottom of what was going on and if his concerns were legitimate or not. He had texted the guy several times today and hadn't seen him in training.

"Did you hear what happened?" Darren asked between mouthfuls.

Hunter looked up curiously. "What happened?"

"Was on a mission this morning and got killed," Darren said causally before taking a gulp of his beer. "Tragic, he was a nice kid—bit weird though."

"He was two years younger than you," Hunter said absentmindedly. His eyes furrowed. "How'd he die?"

Darren shrugged. "Dunno. But I heard that he wanted to leave HYDRA; guess they were serious about the whole 'once you join, you can never leave'." He laughed at his own joke.

Hunter forced out a laugh too, mind running wild. He didn't think it was a joke—it might have been a serious threat—but they both obviously didn't take it seriously. "Do you think it was an accident?" he asked.

He received a weird look from Darren, "What are you saying, dude?"

Hunter knew he couldn't have this conversation with Darren. In truth, he didn't really know that much about him. "Do you think Jensen got himself killed?" he asked, that was a possibility—Jensen might have thought that was the only way out. However, Hunter almost _knew_ that it wasn't Jensen's idea to get killed and it probably wasn't an accident. If a guy says somebody is going to kill him and then ends up dead—Hunter believed there was definitely something worth investigating.

Darren looked almost relieved at his question, like he had passed an unspoken test. "Maybe, some people just can't handle the stress, you know?"

"Yeah," Hunter said shortly as he finished off his coke. He really wished he could have a beer, but stupid regulations forbid it before a mission. "I'm going to get changed and ready for the mission; see you tomorrow." He said getting up and stretching.

"See you," Darren said casually. "And stop asking so many questions—it'll get you killed some day."

Hunter nodded shortly before walking off.

Forty-five minutes later he found himself suited up and sitting in a Quinjet with three other agents. "We got some intel that an organisation is selling illegal guns to a drug cartel; we need to stop the transaction," Agent Dakini re-briefed the quickly. "It is essential that we take hold of the entire cargo—you have permission to injure and kill if necessary to keep it. Understand?"

Hunter nodded, deciding not to ask questions as it seemed pretty straight forward. He had been on loads of missions like this when he was working as a merc—nobody had ever specified that it was okay to kill. He turned to Trojak, wondering why he was on the mission, seeing as he was a scientist. "I didn't expect to see you on a mission like this."

"I'm just here to examine the cargo, make sure it's not a fake," he replied with a shrug.

"I'll be the one making sure he doesn't get shot," one of the agents interjected. "Elliott Kohl," he introduced himself.

"Lance Hunter," he replied with a smile. "How long have you been at S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"About five years," Kohl replied easily. "We look about the same age, but I don't think I've seen you before."

"Seven months, since my initiation," Hunter informed him, offering some clarification into why they hadn't crossed paths before. But, S.H.I.E.L.D was a big organisation; it couldn't have been that uncommon.

"Ahh, usually the newbies are younger," he comment. "You must be good to be on this mission, I thought it was level three."

Hunter laughed. "Thanks. I'm not level three… I guess I'm just so skilled they couldn't resist," he joked. There were a few chuckles, and the conversation carried on for the entire journey. It was only as they landed that everybody turned serious and quiet, all making sure their gear was equipped securely and their weapons were loaded. They went over the plan and entrances quickly before setting off.

It was only a mile's trek to the base, and Hunter went around back with an agent called Karl Kraus. They had to lie in wait, in silence, hiding in the bushes for nearly an hour, before they were given the go ahead to infiltrate.

Hunter and Kraus hadn't even managed to enter the building before the gunfire started. Kraus entered through the window first, followed by Hunter—which was unlucky for him, because as soon as his feet hit the ground, he felt a searing pain in his leg. He quickly jumped and rolled to the side, hiding behind hay before running around to get back defense whilst shooting the guy who shot him in the face. As grunted as he crouched and moved down the side, he was unsure where Kraus had gone, but if he had followed the plan he should have climbed up by now.

They fight had ended almost as quickly as he began. Hunter held the gun in his left hand tightly as he nearly limped out from his spot. He groaned in pain as he stepped. Looking down he ascertained it to be only received a flesh wound in his calf, but it hurt like hell. He moved forward and surrounded the last two 'bad guys' who were alive. The final two surrendered. He took a few breaths as he kept his gun trained on them while they were tied up and their guns apprehended, and then lowered it when given the signal.

"All clear," Kohl called and Trojak jogged out calmly, like he hadn't even broken a sweat. He looked at the cargo before approaching one small box cautiously and opening it. Whatever was inside glowed green. "All good?"

"All good," Trojak confirmed as he closed the box quickly and picked it up.

Kohl nodded and radioed in. "All clear, cargo is secure; send in the recovery team." He walked over to Hunter. "You good?"

"Just a flesh wound, it's nothing," he replied with a shrug as he pointed down to his leg.

Kohl nodded. "Okay, you'll come back with us then, and we'll get you patched up. Wilson, you stay here and keep the cargo secure and hitch a ride with the recovery team."

"Yes sir," Wilson replied.

"Don't let those two out of your sight," Kohl added before putting an arm around Hunter to help him out of the base.

Hunter accepted the help but would never have asked for it. They didn't have to go far as the Quinjet had flown closer to the base after receiving the all clear. Hunter sat down on the bench. He noticed Trojak putting the small box he had examined on the side, he was curious about why they had taken a box, but didn't question it—after all, his questions could get him killed.

Trojak picked up a different box and sat next to Hunter as the Quinjet began moving. "I hear you got shot," he said opening the box to reveal a first aid kit.

"It's just a graze," he replied as he rolled up his trouser legs and looked at the wound. There was a lot of blood, but it wasn't particularly deep. "Hurts worse than it looks," he admitted with a chuckle. "Guess I'm weaker than I thought."

Trojak laughed slightly and sat next to him, ending up patching up him up while they continued to light conversation. Though Hunter kept more back than he normally would have, he genuinely talked about Bob a lot, mainly referring to her as his fiancee—he knew that most people didn't know that his fiancee was Bob, but he didn't want to risk a slip up or put her in any danger. He knew that she wasn't in the group because he had inquired a couple of weeks ago. He decided that being cautious was the best option right now, just in case. He rolled his trouser leg down, hoping the medics didn't realise, he wanted to get off the base as quickly as possible to think.

Hunter went to stand up when they landed after nearly three hours but was stopped by Trojak. "We're not back yet, just dropping off the box. Stay seated."

He did as he was told, he sat there silently for a few minutes after they had taken off again. "What was in the box?"

Trojak looked at him silently for a few moments. "Just a solution."

"What kind of solution?"

"Nothing for you to worry about. We dropped it off at a lab—they are going to work out how it was made and if it was dangerous," he replied, patting Hunter's back.

Hunter nodded. "How much longer until we get back to the base? I'm wiped."

Trojak laughed. "Four hours. We had to fly away from the base to the lab. You might as well get some kip here—we're going to get back in the morning."

Hunter raised an eyebrow. He hadn't questioned why it was taking longer to get back from the mission than to it, but now he was highly curious. He slid out his phone.

"What are you doing?" Trojak asked, his hand darting out to catch his hand before he was able to enter his passcode.

"Texting my fiancee—she'll kill me if I don't let her know I'm not coming home tonight," Hunter said slowly.

"Okay, put a scrambler on it, we don't want her to know our location," Trojak said, releasing him.

Hunter nodded. "I always do." Bob had actually set that up for him when he got this phone. He sent Bobbi a text and realised that it was nearly three in the morning—oops, he was already late. Afterwards, he made sure Trojak wasn't looking and saved the location on his phone for future reference—he'd never been physically stopped from using his phone. He smiled when he received an instantly reply from her; oh he wished he could see her right now. He sent a quick reply back before resting his head against the metal of the Quinjet and closing his eyes. His phones was secure in his hands, in case she texted him again—which she did. But after a few minutes, the replies stopped, and he rested his eyes, not managing to fall asleep.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! :D**


	12. Clint, I joined HYDRA

**Author's note:**

 **Hello! Sorry that the wait for this chapter was longer! But, here's the beginning of the storm I warned you all about! :D**

 **Thank you very much to Princess2016 who reviewed the last chapter! You're the best!**

 **And a thank you to PansycakeInTheTardis for the lovely suggestion! I love it and I will see about it! :D**

 **Shoutout to my co-writer, to which this story wouldn't be possible without; Sanctuaria!**

* * *

Hunter's mind was racing with everything that had happened over the last week. Since his initial conversation with Jensen he had begun over-analysing everything- even researching some of his old missions and noticing inconsistencies that he hasn't before. He had considered dropping the issue, but then Jensen had died and he knew something was not right. His death had really rattled him more that he cared to admit. Plus comments about Jensen's death from some fellow agents had just made him a lot more concerned about the 'club' he had joined. He was having more and more doubts, _something_ was off, but he had been warned about keeping secrets. This was S.H.I.E.L.D. after all. He knew how important it was to not release classified information to anybody. He rounded a corner and noticed Clint, his brow furrowed as he stared at his fiancee's partner and froze.

Maybe he could talk to Clint—at least he'd avoid Bobbi's wrath for revealing classified information. Plus he was the highest ranking agent Hunter knew that hopefully wouldn't get him into any trouble; maybe the information wouldn't be classified for him anyways.

"You okay?" Barton asked, stopping in front of him.

Hunter looked around, "Any chance we could talk… in private?" He felt like he was being paranoid, but he couldn't help it. "About the wedding," he added as a second thought, hoping his lying wasn't as bad as Bobbi always said it was.

"Sure," Barton said, eyeing him with an unreadable expression on his face and gesturing that they should head inside one of the nearby empty rooms. Hunter couldn't tell if he knew he was lying or was just worried something was wrong with him and Bobbi. They entered one of the rooms and Barton shut the door behind them.

"So, the thing is… there's no cameras or microphones in here, right?" Hunter asked, he probably sounded like a loon. "You know Bob, she'll find out I'm planning something and look at the footage—she's got connections everywhere. I can never surprise her. It was true that he'd never really been able to surprise Bob with anything he had specifically planned for her...well, apart from the proposal—but he hadn't exactly planned that.

Barton gave him yet another suspicious glance but pulled out his phone. He dialed a quick number. "Hey, Hill, can you shut off the cameras and microphone in Lab 86B? Thanks." He turned back to Hunter. "Give her a few seconds, and then we're good to go."

Hunter looked around for a few moments. "I'm going to buy a tux sometime this week or next, fancy coming?" he asked idly, deciding it was best to wait a little longer before speaking. He'd rather nobody apart from Barton heard him, mainly because he was scared he might be going crazy, paranoid, and blowing things out of proportion.

"I'd prefer not," Barton cracked a smile. "If I were you, I'd just steal one out of S.H.I.E.L.D's warehouses."

"Wait, I can do that? They have tuxes?" Hunter questioned before realised that he was getting off track and Barton might start to think that he actually wanted to talk about the wedding. He cleared it throat. "Right. I kinda joined this club within S.H.I.E.L.D. It was fun, got me some extra missions. However, I just feel like something's off about it." He stopped for a beat. "You think I'm crazy," he commented, not even getting to the main point of concern.

"I don't," Barton said carefully. "Go on, I'm listening."

With a breath, Hunter sat on one of the tables. "I guess my main concern was about what happened on a mission the other day. One of the agents died—a couple of days before that, he said there was something wrong with the group and that they were going to kill him." He shook his head, "I don't think it was an accident...I've been warned before that I can't leave the group, that it's for life—but I thought it was a joke. Now I'm not sure."

The archer was sporting a definite frown now. "Does this group have a name? Who first got you into it; who's in charge?"

Hunter thought for a moment, almost sighing in relief when it seemed he was being taken seriously. "Well, my mate Darren got me into it. We were in the same training group when I started. I don't really know who's in charge, though, just a bunch of people who were in it—Agent Sitwell seems to be the leader; he's got the highest rank. Also, they say he is the man to see if you want cool missions...I think it's him." He looked down. "They don't really say the name a lot, it's a rule, but it's a weird name: Hydra."

Clint just looked at him for a second, and then pulled out his phone again. He tapped something into it, then spoke. "Agent Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye, identification 6-4-0-0-9-7-5-3-7-2. Agent Lance Hunter." He returned his gaze seriously to Hunter. "Tell me everything you know about this group. Now."

Hunter's eyes widened slightly at the request; he suddenly wished Bobbi was here, because even though he would never admit it, Clint _did_ intimidate him. He cleared his throat, "When I first joined, it was this group which got you moved ahead of other agents, allowed you to go on missions—I was bored; I was used to missions and action. They supplied extra sessions, to help you get ahead both physically and intellectually. Then there was the odd meeting. It was pretty casual. Wee were told to remember who was in the meetings, because they would be like your family… I don't know what you want me to tell you, Clint."

"It's fine," Barton said, his voice _too_ calm to be normal, which made Hunter slightly nervous. "Go on. Everything you can think of."

"Okay," Hunter nodded. He was used to talking about everything- surely he could do it on command. "I've mainly associated with the newer members of the group, so we talk about it… Some of the missions are pretty dark, like… A small group is used to take out a person, or a blow up a building on the down-low for the protection of people. They didn't like me asking questions, but last week I was on a mission and we had to blow up a lab—something about them working on dangerous chemicals. I was sure that it wasn't empty, but Agent Rickard who was leading it said it was. I checked it up afterwards, and there was a report of nine scientists dying… The news report didn't add up to what I was told." He ran a hand through his short hair, not really making a difference. "Officially, according to S.H.I.E.L.D., I've only been on five missions whilst I've been here, but I've been on eight." He stopped and picked up a pen and pad of paper which were on the table beside him. "How about I just write down where the meetings take place and everybody I know who are in the group?"

Clint nodded curtly. "That would be good, but I'm recording this for right now." He indicated the phone he was still holding out. "Most important are the names of the high level agents within HYDRA."

"Like Agent Sitwell?" Hunter asked. He received a nod from Barton and looked down at the phone. He wasn't sure he liked this being recorded, but Bobbi trusted Clint so he decided to as well. "Agent Sitwell, Rickards, Dakini, Kohl…" he hesitated before continuing, not really wanting to say his friends names. "Anton Trojak and a guy called Garrett. Jensen Jones was the one who died; he was in the group too. They are the only ones above level three that I know of," he admitted before writing down the other agents he knew of and the meetings he knew about. He held it out to him. "I joined the group a week after completing my initial training… This seems a lot more serious than I thought. What is HYDRA?" he asked.

"You really, really don't want to know," Barton said. He ended the recording and lifted the phone to his ear. "Maria—are you alone? Good. Make wherever you are go dark and contact Fury. This is a level eight." He paused. "Or higher. I'm sending you the intel I have now." He moved the phone away from his ear, made a few taps, and then lifted it again. "Romanoff, Lab 86B. Level Eight." Finally he returned his attention to Hunter. "You got in way over your head, and it's going to save our asses that you did. HYDRA was supposed to have been eradicated in the forties by Captain America and the Howling Commandos, but somehow it's survived." He was deadly serious. "Their ultimate goal is world domination and the achievement of absolute chaos."

Hunter sighed. "Great, I'm psycho enough to join a terrorist group… Bob's going to love that," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he tried to appear calm—although, even if Clint wasn't a super-spy, it was clear Hunter was anything but calm right now.

Before Clint could respond, the door banged open and Natasha Romanoff stepped through, her green eyes sweeping the room and pausing only briefly on Clint and Hunter. It shut with a dull clang behind her.

"I'm dead," Hunter muttered under his breath.

"You said Level Eight?" she asked Barton, ignoring Hunter's presence.

Hunter wondered if he was going to get kicked out of the room, or if she was here to kill him—he knew exactly who she was. Everybody in S.H.I.E.L.D. knew who the Black Widow was. He hoped that she wasn't here to kill him. After all, she was friends with Bobbi—close enough for Bob to want her in her wedding party. However, this is the first time he had been in the same room as her without Bob. He looked down, deciding that he didn't even want to be apart of whatever else was going on—maybe it was better if he had a different job from his fiancée. If he was a merc he could have more free time, he could choose his missions, he wouldn't have to take orders from anybody. That sounded nice. He hated taking orders.

"I did," Clint said shortly, giving her a significant look. "HYDRA."

Romanoff wordlessly slipped a knife out from some hidden pocket in her uniform. She glanced towards Hunter. "Him?"

Hunter raised his hands in surrender, "No—no… no. Clint." He said quickly, looking at the archer with pleading wide eyes.

"He's not a threat," Barton said, and immediately Romanoff lowered the knife to by her side. "He didn't know what he was getting into, and he came to me when he realized something was off."

The Black Widow approached him, cold green-gray eyes raking him up and down. It occurred to Hunter that she was calculating the easiest ways to kill him right now. "You're Bobbi's fiancé."

Hunter nodded, "Yeah—you're one of her bridesmaids, right?" he responded with a gulp. He hoped his relationship with Bob would save him from being killed right then.

"If HYDRA doesn't kill us all before it happens, yes," she nodded. "You armed?"

"Not currently?" Hunter tried, fairly certain that was the wrong answer.

She pulled a handgun out of her waistband and handed it to him. "Here."

He looked between it and her uncertainly. "Don't you need this?"

She exchanged a glance with Clint that he would have labeled as amused if not for their current predicament. "Just stay behind us and keep it out of sight unless we're attacked."

Hunter gave a quick and silent nod as he tucked the gun into his trousers and pulled his t-shirt over it. Romanoff led the way out the door, both of them walking quickly but casually together. He hurried along behind them trying not to look like he was trotting behind the two most legendary agents on the base for the sheer purpose of doing so until they reached a door marked with Maria Hill's name. Romanoff didn't even bother knocking, just barged straight in.

"Out," she ordered, one stiff finger pointing towards the door. The two agents giving their report stopped speaking abruptly with surprised looks on their faces and hurried out the door at the murderous look on the Black Widow's. Hunter quickly got out of the way to let them by, following the two master assassins into the room, and the murderous look melted off Romanoff's face to be replaced by one of utter seriousness.

"This is about what you requested earlier, isn't it?" Deputy Director Hill asked, looking between them. She frowned at Hunter. "And how are you involved?"

Hunter tried to avoid her gaze. "I—I was just talking to Clint about my wedding… I'm not involved in anything that involves terrorism or whatever this is about—because, I'm not involved." He answered, acting confident, but he was the opposite. Right now he just wanted to quit S.H.I.E.L.D. and go home to avoid this whole situation. Also, he didn't want to say anything about HYDRA in case the room was bugged or Hill was apart of it; he very much wanted to stay alive.

"Cut the crap, Hunter," Clint said coldly. "You're neck deep in this, and denying it isn't going to change that."

"You can trust Maria," Romanoff added, her piercing gaze making him feel as though she'd read his mind.

Hunter sighed, "I joined the stupid psycho group HYDRA, realised they were bad—you know, killing people—and told Clint." He said shortly.

Hill became very still. "Did he say HYDRA?"

"Yeah—I may have a different accent from you, but it's not like I'm speaking another language," Hunter spluttered out sarcastically, unable to stop himself.

Her eyes flashed. "That's not what I meant, Agent Hunter, and you know it. It's also no way to talk to a superior. You have no idea the enormity of what you're claiming."

"We think it's true," Barton said. His phone was already in his hand and he slid his thumb upwards across the screen, causing the wall behind them to come to life with a speech-to-text translation of his recording of their earlier conversation, the voices overlayed on top of it.

Hunter glanced at it with slight awe, until he realised what conversation it was then he turned away. If he had know how serious this actually was, he would have just gone to Bob—Or quit S.H.I. .. and attempt to convince Bob to leave it too. He couldn't decide which. He remained silent as he wasn't completely confident that he wasn't going to be killed.

"HYDRA," Hill repeated when the playback had finished. She was silent for a second, then shook her head. "We can't worry about how they infiltrated us so completely now. But we do need to take out the targets Agent Hunter provided us, remove them from daily S.H.I.E.L.D. duties quietly and hold them for interrogation. We need to get the other names—all of them—before we tip our hand. Romanoff—"

"I'd like to be in charge of that," the Black Widow said in a low, dangerous voice.

A grim smile played across Hill's lips. "I thought you might." She removed a handgun much like the one Romanoff had lent him and placed it on her desk. "Barton, you'll have to figure out the best way to get those men out of our bases, starting with Sitwell. I'm going to contact Fury." The two assassins nodded in unison and left the room. "Agent Hunter," Hill addressed him. She paused. "I'm curious, what do you think we should do with you?" The gun was still sitting on her table top, perfectly within reach.

Hunter gulped. "Well, my first suggestion would be to let me live," he said hesitantly, his eyes glancing from her to the gun. "But that's just my preference…"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't in the business of killing people who make mistakes," Hill sighed. "If we were, we never could have recruited Barton or Romanoff. You're dismissed back to your regular duties, Agent Hunter. Say nothing to anyone about what's going on here. Act normal."

"So… I can actually leave the base? Because I just got back from a mission and was given the rest of the day off," Hunter replied.

"That's probably for the best- minimize your interaction with the HYDRA agents you mentioned," she said. She waved him out the door, a clear dismissal. "Not a word, Hunter. We will be watching."

"Yes, ma'am," Hunter replied before walking out of the door, he took a breath before realising Natasha Romanoff was lurking beside him. "Hi."

"Don't even think about running from this," she told him curtly.

Hunter cleared his throat awkwardly, "Wouldn't dream of it. Bye."

She didn't move, and she was close enough he didn't feel safe even edging away. "You're not that hard to read, Hunter. You were thinking about taking off before we even stepped foot in Hill's office."

Hunter turned to face her, looked at her directly and tried to act confident, "I followed a girl to America, changed my life because I love her—I'm not about to leave unless _she_ tells me to."

"Good," Romanoff said. "She won't. And don't say anything to Bobbi about this—Barton and I will bring her in ourselves." Then the Black Widow turned and walked away.

"Yeah—that's going to go really well. She can tell when I forget to take out the trash and lie about it—she's definitely not going to notice," he muttered sarcastically to himself as he walked off, ready to get to the safety of his home.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I'd love to know if you like this twist and if you saw it coming and caught all of the little hints (or not so little :P)**


	13. What's going on, Hunter?

**Author's Note:**

 **Huge thanks to Princess2016 and grossly-sweet for your reviews! You two are amazing :)**

* * *

Hunter sat in his parked car for at least five minutes when he got home before he opened the door and got out. He eyed up Bobbi's car, knowing that she was going to be inside and he had to lie to her. With his head held high he walked up to the door and inserted his key, he heard the door unlock and entered the house. "Bob, you here?" he called, trying to act as normal as possible.

"Right here," she called before appearing out of the hallway and coming toward him with a smile.

A genuine smile hit his lips for a split second that she was safe and unharmed. It didn't last though because he knew she might not be safe for much longer. "Hey, miss me?" he asked walking towards her.

"Of course," she greeted him with a kiss. "Enough to start cooking dinner even. No pizza tonight."

Hunter rolled his eyes: he always preferred pizza but it was yet another thing he never told her. "Sounds great, what are you cooking?" he asked.

"Chicken and potatoes with green beans," she informed him.

"Yummy," he replied shortly. He realised he still had the Black Widow's gun tucked into the back of his jeans and knew that would raise suspicion; Bob knew all of his guns. "I will be back in a second," he said slowly as he tried sliding past her whilst keep his back hidden.

She gave him a funny look, probably due to the way he was walking. "You okay? Did you get hurt on that mission?"

"I'm fine, no injuries," Hunter responded a bit too quickly. He raised his arms. "See, no blood." He backed away from her towards the door and at the last second turned and walked out quickly and into the bedroom. He quickly took the gun out and shoved it into his go-bag which was by the bed—he hadn't needed it this morning.

"Okay," she said uncertainly after him. When he reemerged from the bedroom she was still standing there, concern replacing the confusion on her face. "Was it a particularly bad one?"

"Uhm…" Hunter hesitated, "...it was just a normal mission." Was he allowed to talk about the mission? He was warned to not say anything-was that just about HYDRA or anything that could be related to it? He avoided eye-contact with her whilst he tried to remember the actual threat.

"If it's a classified-issue I can call Maria and have her declassify it for me," Bobbi said, touching his arm. "My clearance is a lot higher than yours. And you don't look okay, Lance."

"No," Hunter cleared it throat. "It's fine, honestly Bob. I'm just tired… I think I'm just tired, I haven't really had any time off in a while, it's just catching up with me, I guess. It doesn't have anything to do with S.H.I.E.L.D." He lied, he didn't even think it was remotely true. He wasn't even tired having slept ten hours the night before.

She gave him one last glance—this time a bit amused—and turned away to walk into the kitchen. "You sleep like a teenage boy, Lance."

"As a teenager I used to sleep until noon… or 3pm," Hunter pointed out as he followed her into the kitchen.

She snorted. "Pathetic. I was always up by nine, usually eight."

"Yeah, and I bet you went bed in the early evening or something," Hunter replied with a small chuckle. "I can imagine you going to bed at a sensible time while everybody else was partying."

Bobbi grinned. "You kidding? I was up past midnight every night talking to all my girlfriends about the boys we liked."

Hunter shook his head with a small laugh. "And what a waste of time that was." He stuck out his tongue, "I bet none of them were anything like me."

She laughed, shaking her head as she checked on the chicken. "You actually believed that? I was up _studying_ , Hunter."

Hunter rolled his eyes, he noted how she called him Hunter instead of Lance, but didn't make comment on it, he never did. "That is more believable. You actually _liked_ studying, didn't you?"

"Some of it. I liked Bio, obviously. And history. But English was complete BS—who knows what those centuries-old authors meant anyways? I could make stuff up as well as the next student for the essays, but I like subjects with actual answers."

Hunter nodded. "That is so you. Everything needs a definitive answer; otherwise it drives you mad." He teased.

She glanced at him, turning off the oven and leaning down to take dinner out of it. "Which is why knowing you're lying to me about what's bothering you is so aggravating."

Hunter frowned. He knew he couldn't get away with it that easily. He waited until she had put the tray down before hugging her. "I'm sorry." He mentally contemplated whose bad side he would rather be on, Bob's or Romanoff's. Romanoff would have no problem killing him, and at least if Bob killed him, she'd be the last face he saw; that wouldn't be _so_ bad. "I just can't tell you, okay?"

She frowned. "But it does have to do with S.H.I.E.L.D.?" At his non-response, she nodded. "Of course it does, otherwise why wouldn't you be able to tell me? Let me call Maria…"

"No, no," Hunter said quickly, interrupting her. "Please, please don't call anybody or say anything. I'm in enough trouble as it is, if you call… Please don't."

Her eyebrows shot upwards. "You're in trouble?"

Hunter nodded before resting his head on her shoulder, hiding his face from hers, "I messed up… can we just leave S.H.I.E.L.D. at S.H.I.E.L.D. and be a normal couple who talks about… whatever normal couples talk about? Complain about my messiness or something."

She seemed torn for a minute, long enough for him to glance up at her with a worried expression. "I suppose." She set the baking dish of kitchen down on the stovetop and took off her gloves. "I do have to make one call first though."

Sheer panic went over his face, "To whom?" He silently begged that it wasn't Clint or worse.

"Clint." Shit. "Just about a scheduling problem for tomorrow, not about you."

Hunter tried to think of a reason why she shouldn't call him. "He said nine… in the morning sharp. Forgot until now."

"For the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy of Communications presentation or the Level Seven briefing with Sitwell?" she asked confusedly.

Think, Hunter, think. "The presentation… do you really think he'd trust me with anything above level 1? It's Clint, he wouldn't tell me a Level Seven meeting was evening happened," he scoffed. He was going to get is so much trouble if she turned up to the wrong thing at the wrong time; maybe she'd kill him for lying to her about this before she finds out he joined a crazed Nazi organisation. Also, he didn't want to send her to a meeting with Sitwell, when he had just revealed that Sitwell was part of HYDRA.

"So Sitwell was okay with me bailing on him?" She thought about it a moment, then shrugged. "Or maybe Natasha got to him, repeated what she said to me about gutting me if I didn't go with her to the Academy to talk about operational logistics."

"Well, you gotta keep her happy," Hunter commented before getting out the plates.

Bobbi smirked. "Natasha is not the one you want going to give a talk to the analysts about how important their jobs are. Until very recently she refused to work with them at all, and even now her rate of going off-book is the highest at S.H.I.E.L.D. Can you imagine what that inspirational speech would be like?" She dropped her voice a bit lower in an imitation of Romanoff. "' _Just stay out of my way_.'"

Hunter laughed. "She's scary. I think that's pretty good advice." He dished up the food and walked them over to the table. He was glad that she had appeared to drop the issue about him lying, but wasn't sure what she would do tomorrow when they separated or when she would be filled in on what was going on. But one more night with her whilst everything was calm seemed like a real possibility and the food looked pretty edible. He sat down and smiled at her when she joined him at the table. "You know I love you, right?"

"See, now I _know_ something's wrong," she teased with a laugh. "But yes, Lance—and I love you too."

* * *

It seemed like as soon as she stepped through the door at the Academy, she was ambushed. Not by eager cadets wanting to meet the Mockingbird, as she might have expected. No, an actual ambush—a bag over the head and everything.

About .3 seconds later was when her specialist instincts kicked in and she twisted out of the grip of her attackers. Then she abruptly stopped as she identified Clint's voice. "Shit! Nat, take the bag off her head—I told you this was a bad idea!" A moment later the darkness was lifted and Barton and Romanoff came into view. The Black Widow held the black bag and Clint was rubbing his arm with a frown. "Bobbi, you scratched me."

She didn't dignify that with a response and crossed her arms. "What the hell." It wasn't a question.

"HYDRA," Natasha said in reply.

Bobbi just stared at her for a second. "Come again?"

"HYDRA, Nazis, world domination, chaos—them," Clint clarified. "They're here, in S.H.I.E.L.D., and no one knew until yesterday."

"How?" Bobbi demanded, some of the adrenaline beginning to fade from the unexpected attack.

"Hidden since the forties. And we still don't know their numbers within our ranks."

She frowned, mind clamping down into Mockingbird mode. The whirling of information inside her head stopped, replaced by a single-minded intensity on the upcoming task at hand. "Why didn't you tell me this yesterday?"

Clint gave a half-shrug. "I wanted to, but…" He nodded toward his partner slightly, and Bobbi turned on her.

"You didn't trust me? You thought I could be…?" She stared at her, Mockingbird slipping for a moment. "How could you even consider the possibility of me…being...that?"

"I don't trust anyone," Natasha said flatly. "We _were_ friends. I had to run your name along with a lot of other people's to make sure that we still _are_." She and Natasha stared at each other, the assassin's eyes unrelenting.

Finally, Bobbi nodded. She knew what Natasha had been through in her life; she couldn't begrudge her this action when their entire world was about to fall apart. "Understood. Who else knows? And who else can we trust?"

"Maria's contacted Fury," Clint said. "And Hunter knows as well, plus Agent 13."

"Wait, why does Lan-Hunter know?" Bobbi questioned suddenly. "And since when? If you two wanted him to know, why isn't he in here with me with a bag over his head?"

Clint looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. "He's the one who blew the whistle on HYDRA."

Bobbi frowned. "But...how did he know about it?"

There was a visible pause as a smirk made its way onto Clint's lips. "Your future husband willingly joined it." He stopped, the seriousness coming back onto his face. "He came to me about it when he realised what it was he joined."

"HYDRA first, then I'll help you kill him," Natasha interjected. "Agent 19—" The S.H.I.E.L.D. phrasing helped Bobbi focus, as the Black Widow knew it would. "—we're going to work on ferreting out the other members of HYDRA hiding among us over the next week or so and get as many names as we can before blowing the whole thing wide open." She glanced at Clint.

"Tell her," he prompted.

"We need to gather some trusted agents to go undercover, and the fewer people brought into this the less likely there'll be a leak," Natasha said. "Even if we interrogated the HYDRA members we were able to find just based on the logs, there's no guarantee that even if we break them in interrogation, we'll get all the names. Groups like this, the members usually only know who a few other members are in case one is caught. The only way we can be sure HYDRA is truly eradicated this time is to stage exactly what they were planning as their eventuality: a coup. We'll find a high-ranking HYDRA agent that we know we can break and learn from him how this...uprising was supposed to go down." Natasha paused. "Then we each go undercover at one base, isolate them from each other. Play out the scenario."

"Who do you mean by 'we each'?" Bobbi asked.

"Us three, and Agent 13 is in as well," she answered. "And for now, Hunter. He already knows and he's definitely not HYDRA, so he's one of the best candidates. We'll need at least five more for the large bases, but Hill will probably fill one of those spots."

"Hunter isn't like us," Bobbi told them seriously, looking between Natasha and Clint. "Your plan is solid, but Hunter? He's a mercenary, not a spy. His idea of undercover is putting on a cowboy hat and a Texas accent."

"He's deep in this, Bobbi. If he pulled out now, they are going to know something is going on," Clint spoke. "I don't care what he used to be, he is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent now."

"One absolutely untrained in espionage," Bobbi replied, but she knew they were right. It might not be best for Hunter to go in like that, but it was certainly their best chance of success. "We can discuss that more later. Where are we meeting to run these checks?"

"I know a place, it's called Providence, not on the S.H.I.E.L.D. radar. As far as I know, I'm one of three people who know about it," Clint informed them. "And one of them's standing right next to me, and the other wears an eyepatch."

"All right, send me the coordinates on a secure line," Bobbi nodded. "If they come back clean, I have some suggestions on who those other four undercover agents could be." She turned away towards the door. "Now I have a fiancé to kill, before you get him killed sending him in untrained and untested as a HYDRA boss later."

"He passed my test," Natasha pointed out from behind her. "He managed not to tell you about HYDRA."

Bobbi gave a wave of her hand as the only indication she'd heard before walking out and letting the door slam behind her. It took her a moment to remember where Hunter would be this morning—right, the gym back at the Triskelion. She drove back with minimal heed to the speed limits, walked straight through security without even pulling out her badge, and strode down the hallways with younger agents scattering out of her way. When she reached the gym doors she flung them open and walked straight up to where Hunter and one of his fellow agents were sparring. She ducked smoothly underneath the agent's sweeping punch—he obviously hadn't seen her coming—and grabbed Hunter by the ear, dragging him off the mat with her.

"Did I forget to make the bed again?" he questioned, arms failing to maintain balance.

She slammed him backwards through the doors of the gym, the only thing keeping him upright as she pushed him into an empty briefing room. "What the _hell_ were thinking, Hunter?"

Hunter rubbed his ear. "What? What did I do?" he asked.

She took a threatening step towards him. "Don't give me any of your shit. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Hunter half turned away from her, "I didn't have a choice. I was trying to do the right thing; I thought you would understand that!"

"Understand you lying to me? About something this huge? _Understand how you could be stupid enough to join HYDRA_?" She hissed, keeping her voice low incase anybody was listening.

"It's not like it was labelled as 'join this Nazi-psycho-murdering group, we have cookies'. I didn't even realise I was joining a group at first, it was just a way to get on missions quicker, training is so boring! And yes, I lied to you, because I was scared that I was over-reacting and would be revealing classified information—you'd kill me. So, I went to Clint and then was warned not to tell you. What would you do?" Hunter questioned before quickly adding, "And we _both_ know that you would have kept it from me."

"I wouldn't have let my fiancé walk back into danger without even knowing it," Bobbi shot back.

A small huff left his body, "If I thought that you were in _any_ danger, you know I would have done something. I would have told you, even if it did mean Romanoff killing me."

"HYDRA's infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. How could that be even _remotely_ safe?"

Hunter throws his arms up in annoyance. "Well, you've been living with one for a while-should I have informed you about that too?" he asked sarcastically. "I did what was right for S.H.I.E.L.D., I did what I thought you would have done. Yes, you're my fiancée, and I wanted to tell you so much, but I know you can take care of yourself—even then I sent you to meet up with one of the deadliest assassins I know!" He groaned and turned away from her. "I'm supposed to be training, getting dragged out of there by you isn't exactly 'acting normal' now, is it?"

She made a snorting noise. "With you and me, it's not too far out of normal." She crossed her arms, looking down. "Sorry for shouting at you. But this isn't over, and I hate that it isn't—I hate that Barton and Romanoff's plan involves you going back into the belly of the beast even after all that's happened."

"If it were up to me, you wouldn't be involved at all. You can still leave without it being suspicious. I'm already involved and I want… no, I need to see this through to the end. I've already failed at helping somebody who deemed me as a friend, I won't let that happen again," Hunter told her firmly as he turned back to face her.

"But...you're new to S.H.I.E.L.D.—you only joined because of me. It's not your fight. It shouldn't be."

"I joined for selfish reasons. To be closer to you, know where you were… but Jensen opened my eyes," Hunter took a step forward. "I'm not going anywhere, just like I know you're not leaving either. We're in this together, yeah?"

She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're still an idiot," Bobbi growled in his ear.

"But I'm _your_ idiot," he concluded as his arms slipped around her waist before kissing her.

"As long as HYDRA doesn't kill you," she said darkly. "Or both of us."

Hunter pulled her into a hug. "You should really stop saying that name, this room could be bugged. Watch your six, I need to get back to training—don't want to fall behind at a time like this." He pulled back. "Don't die out there."

"HYDRA doesn't need bugs; we surveil ourselves," Bobbi said. "But not every room. There are a few we keep secretly unmonitored for...reasons."

"See, now _you're_ keeping secrets from _me_ ," Hunter said as he walked to the door and pulled it open. "Love you," he added before exiting the room.

"Love you too," Bobbi echoed quietly.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading :)**


	14. The Plan

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello, as you've probably noticed, the chapters aren't coming as quickly, it's because these current chapters involve a lot more work. So... thank you for your patience! I don't want to post a chapter, just because, I'd rather have put in the work it deserves :)**

 **Huge thank you to: grossly-sweet, Princess2016, Kia- for reviewing the last chapter! I really appreciate it!**

 **Kia (as I wasn't able to reply to you), yes, precisely. I couldn't have said it better myself :P :)**

* * *

"You checked it for bugs?" Bobbi asked, entering the room with Hunter following her. She put a hand on the edge of an empty swivel chair at the far end of the table, where Natasha, Clint, Maria, and Fury were gathered.

"Yes," Natasha nodded, at the same time as Clint said, "Many times."

"Good." She pulled the chair outwards and sat down. Natasha and Clint mirrored her. As did Fury and Hill, both looking as grim. Even Fury's eyepatch seemed to be glaring at them.

Hunter appeared to hesitate before joining them at the table, looking very out of place and inferior.

"What have we got?" Fury asked deeply, staring everybody down, his glance lingering on Hunter a second longer.

"Hydra. In S.H.I.E.L.D.," Clint offered helpfully.

"Care to elaborate, Barton?" Fury responded, not amused by the archer's usual attitude.

"Unknown numbers, unknown locations, unknown levels of infiltration," Clint listed off. "Unknown just about everything except that we're in some pretty deep shit."

"And we have him," Natasha pointed one long finger at Hunter.

"Are we sure the source can be trusted?" Fury asked, looking pointedly at Hunter.

Hunter leant back slightly. "Yes? Right, Bob?"

"He can be trusted," Bobbi said clearly, but with a small sigh behind it. "He may be our biggest asset in this whole thing, seeing as he's _in_ Hydra."

"Yes. That isn't necessarily a good thing," Hill commented. "What are we going to do? Re-interrogate everybody at S.H.I.E.L.D? That doesn't seem to be as effective as we thought."

"Most of them will be heavily conditioned against torture," Clint pointed out. His eyes flicked to Natasha and back again. "No matter how skilled the interrogator."

"And if too many of them go missing, Hydra will get suspicious," Natasha added. "Flushing them all out at once...that seems the only option."

Hill pulled out a pen and a pad of paper, quickly jotting something down. "We should do it soon. We have a lot of recruits and agents on training this week, most of them coming back in five or six days," she informed them. "If we're going to do this, we don't want too many out of missions. We want to keep it all contained and localised to the S.H.I.E.L.D bases."

Clint nodded in agreement. "And the more missions we let go on between now and when we do something about it, the more chances Hydra has to start World War III."

Hunter looked at Bobbi, before glancing around. "We're not going to kill everybody, right?" he questioned with uncertainty.

Fury leant forward. "You're the HYDRA agent; you tell me."

"I have no intention of killing somebody just because they joined this HYDRA group- If I did, I'd have to commit suicide," he replied, with some confidence.

Bobbi sighed. Of course Hunter had to be difficult. But before she could say anything, Natasha cut in with green eyes flashing. "You're the mercenary we trusted enough to bring onboard S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place, Lance Hunter. You'll kill anyone we tell you to kill in the evil organization hellbent on world destruction that you aided and abetted. Or we'll slap your ass with jail time in a dark cell where you'll never again see the light of day." Everyone stared at her.

Unfortunately, Hunter had the audacity- no, the utter stupidity- to actually glare at her. "I'm not going to kill somebody in cold blood just because _you_ tell me to. If they shoot at me first, sure. Shoot at Bobbi, definitely. But not for no reason other than an order- some of them are probably innocent; you can't just shoot them all."

Natasha opened her mouth to fire something back but Bobbi cut her off, looking at Hunter. "I think what Tasha is trying to say is that we can't afford to use kid gloves with Hydra. No one in their organization is innocent, and from what you've told me killing in cold blood or to protect their secret is their modus operandi. Of course we're not going to go executing them all, but given the choice between letting one escape and putting a bullet in their head, it's going to be a bullet."

"Or an arrow," Clint added.

"We're not trying to act as judge, jury, and executioner. We will try to capture first. But Hydra is one of the most sinister, evil, _invasive_ organizations the world has ever seen. It's our duty to protect that world," Bobbi finished, willing him to understand. Willing him to get on board.

Hunter nodded. "Sounds a lot like Hydra's pitch, if you ask me," he mumbled under his breath.

"Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire," Natasha replied coldly.

Hunter looked like he was about to respond, but stopped himself. Silence filled the air for a few seconds before Hill continued.

"I'd recommend between Wednesday and Saturday week after this one- best opportunity."

"To do what, exactly?" Bobbi asked.

Hill looked at her. "Take down Hydra. Either with a bullet in their heads, or cuffs on their wrists." She paused, "That could also give me enough time to call certain missions back to base if required- depending on if it won't draw too much attention to what we're doing."

Fury gave a firm nod, but remained silent.

"I meant, how do we do that with the fewest number of casualties?" Bobbi asked.

"And being sure we get them all," Natasha added.

"And without tipping them off beforehand," Clint said.

"Carefully?" Hunter answered cheekily.

Fury rolled his eye. "Really? I thought we'd go in guns blazing," he retorted sarcastically.

"We have to do it all at once, get any agent above level four who we know is Hydra and take them out of the equation. Call them for a meeting, or whatever."

"But if it's a S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting," Clint pointed out, "wouldn't they notice if it's just them and all their compatriots? Even if we seed in some actual S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to make it look normal, we'd have to a) vet and brief them first, and b) have enough to make it look real, which increases our chances of accidentally choosing someone wrong and realizing it—red flag for Hydra when they don't come back—or not realizing it and letting one slip through with the potential to ruin our entire plan."

"What if it's a Hydra meeting?" Bobbi asked.

Natasha nodded. "Then we'd need one of them to turncoat. Someone they'd recognize."

"Or just a voice file," Bobbi said. There was silence for a moment while they all digested that.

"I could record a meeting on my phone, so you can hear what it's like and replicate it," Hunter suggested with a shrug.

"That would be helpful," Bobbi told him, inwardly relieved that he was finally coming around. "We can pull voices from security cams—"

"Or oral mission reports," Clint added.

"—and use our voice replication software to have them say whatever we want."

"Even more helpful, Hunter..." Natasha began. Bobbi was honestly a bit surprised at the civil tone of her voice. "...would be if you could figure out their normal method of contacting members and telling them to meet—something that's not word-of-mouth."

Hunter pulled out his phone. "I've only ever been contacted once for a meeting, because Darren usually grabs me. It was a voicemail message… I saved it so I could listen to it again if I forgot- before I knew what Hydra was… and…" He paused, looking at his phone with confusion. "It's gone. That's strange. It just told me the time and location, giving me just over an hour to get there."

"Who was it from?" Fury asked.

Hunter shrugged, "I don't know. I didn't recognise his voice."

"Did the voice sound altered?" Natasha asked. "Or simply artificial?"

He thought for a moment. "It sounded a bit robotic, but apart from that, seemed like a normal voice to me."

"I'll get you some voice recordings from high level S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to see if you recognise any," Hill told him, jotting that down. Hunter nodded.

"To do that we need to know who to send it to," Clint pointed out. "Which means...I vote we try to break at least one known Hydra member between now and then. Handpicked based on Hunter's intel on how high up they are and whether Nat thinks she can break them."

"And who do you suggest?" Fury asked, looking between them all. He looked at Natasha.

"Bring up the list again," she prompted Hill.

Hill flipped open the pad to another page- she was taking the no technology seriously. "Sitwell, Rickards, Dakini, Kohl, Trojak, Garrett and Jones- that was the list Hunter gave us."

She narrowed her eyes. "Who's higher up, Sitwell or Garrett?"

Hunter shrugged, "I've never actually spoken to Garrett. Don't know who he is, to be honest with you."

"Sitwell's higher in S.H.I.E.L.D. and an analyst," Clint said. "I don't see him putting up much of a fight against you, Nat."

"Sitwell," she nodded, looking at Fury. "You'll need to craft some reasonable excuse for him to be MIA the next week—one that he believes too, so that he'll come willingly and not leave any warning messages behind."

Fury nodded. "Hill, set up a fake meeting with an important asset- one that'll need Sitwell, one similar to something he's used to, but not too serious."

Hill nodded, writing that down too.

"This is going to be...difficult to pull off," Bobbi voiced the uneasy feeling that had been settling in her gut over the last half an hour. "Even for the six of us."

"One man, can make a difference- do you all need reminding?" Fury cleared his throat.

"Please not the one man speech," Natasha said quickly.

"We've only heard it a bajillion times," Clint added.

"No, thank you, sir," Bobbi shook her head profusely.

"One man speech?" Hunter questioned.

Fury's lips tweaked at one side. "Hunter, one man can accomplish anything once he realizes he's part of something bigger."

Hunter waited a second. "That was it?"

Bobbi made a face. "Sure, you give _him_ the short version."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Be thankful he kept it short. We're five people, so we can accomplish five big things—or one huge one. Whatever. Let's just get this show on the road, okay?"

"Hunter, gather as much intel you can and feed it back through Bobbi; that way we can try to get every high level agent we can at once," Hill informed him as a final note as she stood up.

Hunter nodded and stood up with Bobbi, ready to leave. Clint and Natasha did as well, all looking around at one another with equal amounts of uncertainty and grim determination.

"Radio silence on this matter," Fury said, ending the meeting officially before indicating Hill stay behind.

The four other agents left the room, separating with Hunter and Bobbi heading to the car, and Natasha and Clint heading in the other direction.

* * *

Hunter adjusted the bag over his shoulder for the fifth time in the last few minutes. He walked into the gym and set it down. Act normal, he told himself. Glancing around at the large number of people occupying the room, he wondered how many of them were HYDRA. Until he had spoken to Clint, he hadn't cared, but now he knew what they were.

He estimated that there were sixty agents in the room, all for a training session, and all had joined within the last year- like himself.

"Hey, Hunter," Darren greeted him, claiming the seat beside him and dropping his own bag onto the floor. "How's it going?"

Hunter looked at his friend, the one who actually brought him into HYDRA. Had Darren known what it really was? Did he know now? "Not too bad, didn't get that much sleep, though."

Darren grinned at him, patting his back, "Your missus keeping you up? Sweet!"

Hunter scoffed as he rolled his eyes, amused. "Is that seriously where your head goes?"

"Have you seen her? Of course it is! How do you concentrate around her… or not jump her every second at home?" Darren asked, looking serious. "How do you restrain yourself?"

Hunter chuckled, "She says no, which puts a damper on me jumping her all hours of the day and night."

"You let that stop you? I wouldn't."

Hunter paused for a moment. He would usually laugh, taking it as a joke, but now he wasn't so sure. He laughed anyway, so as to not look suspicious. "Right… she would kill me. Literally, she has a mean left hook on her! I don't want to end up in the hospital."

"Wimp," Darren muttered. "You can control her when you want though?"

"I know what she likes and doesn't like. She's a hard nut to crack, but I've got her," Hunter replied. He felt like he was going insane with paranoia. Darren probably didn't mean anything by these questions; it was just a conversation. "You still alright to come to my wedding?"

"You know it! When am I going to get the actual invitation?"

Hunter groaned. "Oh yeah. That."

Darren laughed. "Yeah, that… kinda important if you want anybody to turn up."

Hunter laughed. "I thought Bob was going to do all of that. Oh, a quick question, who's, like, in charge of our little group?"

"In charge? Why?"

"Well, I know who I've got to impress in S.H.I.E.L.D, the top guns, Fury, Pierce, Hill, all those guys. But not in our group," Hunter explained. "Maybe an invite to the wedding or some extra help would make me- us- look better. Just want to know who to impress."

Darren grinned, leaning closer. "You're a smart man. Okay, so you definitely want to invite Sitwell- he's a sucker for that sort of thing. If you are able to even make Pierce know your name, you're in with him. But, the main guy I think you'd need to be noticed by is Garrett."

"Garrett? Pierce is in too?"

Darren laughed. "Yeah, Pierce is with us. But he wouldn't care about little recruits like us. Everybody knows Garrett is a top gun though. You impress him; it'll be great. He chooses who's in the inner circle. You're still on the outer circle, but Garrett actually approached me and got me to join."

Hunter looked at him shocked and slightly impressed. "Garrett asked you personally to join Hyd—"

"No, S.H.I.E.L.D." Darren corrected, interrupting him.

Hunter took a second to process this, all of his words sinking in. "Man, so you're like a top gun too- I've gotta impress _you_!"

Darren grinned but didn't say anything else as he turned his focus to Hand.

"What about Hand?" Hunter asked, leaning in close.

"Nah, she's not important at all." Darren informed him.

Hunter nodded and looked at Hand- she was on the right side. He needed to talk to Clint, or Natasha or Bobbi… in a way that wouldn't look suspicious.

* * *

Sweeping the detector under the lamp and then over the cushions of the sofa, Bobbi completed their daily bug check with a sigh of relief. Nothing, just like yesterday. And the day before that. Moving to stash the detector in the closet again, she passed by Hunter on the way.

"Was it my turn to do the laundry?" He questioned. "Is that why I can't find any of my favourite t-shirts?"

"It was," Bobbi informed him with a slight smile. "But I didn't touch them. Try the bedroom floor."

Hunter groaned, trudging into the bathroom and returning with a handful of laundry. "Damn it."

Bobbi set the detector in the back of the closet and closed the door. "We're well past that stage in the relationship where I would just do it for you without saying anything, Lance," she teased. "That lasted...about four days."

"Do you think we could change it back? I loved those four days," he half-joked, walking out of the room to shove them in the washing machine and then returning. "So much easier."

She scoffed. "For you, maybe." Bobbi turned away from the closet to find him standing very close behind her, almost bumping into him. She circled her arms around his waist.

Hunter has a soft smile on his lips as he hooked his arms around her, holding her close. "Finally, we're alone," he said with relief, dropping a small kiss onto the side of her mouth.

She grinned. "So we think. That bug detector's not foolproof, you know—maybe we'd better check it one more time, just to be safe."

"Or…" Hunter interjected, kissing the other side of her mouth. "We stop being so paranoid. Nobody has been in this place apart from us since the meeting, and we've checked for bugs a hundred times. They are more productive things we could be doing." He grinned. "Like laundry."

Bobbi nodded. "Yes, your fiancée and wife-to-be thinks that's a great idea. Want to do some of mine while you're at it?"

He laughed. "If it was in the bathroom, it's now in the washing machine. Lets hope you left nothing in any of the pockets."

"Don't think s—damn it." She extricated herself from him and ran to the laundry machine, pulling open the lid and peering inside. Fishing around for it, she finally extracted a sodden piece of paper. "Well, there goes my specialized-weapons-and-gear stipend for this month," she huffed, holding it up with the nails of her thumb and index finger.

"Sorry, love!" Hunter apologised. "Maybe I'll stick to doing the dishes for you instead."

She sighed. "I'll train you yet, Hunter." Bobbi shrugged it off, going back to him and hugging him again to show there were no hard feelings. "So, what were we talking about before?"

"We were… before I forget, should we talk work now or later?" he asked her reluctantly.

"Talk?" she questioned.

"Spoke to Darren, told me who I needed to impress and who didn't matter. I presume he would want me to impress Hydra… said not to bother with Hand." Hunter told her roughly, not getting into a great deal of detail.

"And who do you have to impress?" Bobbi asked, making a mental note regarding Hand. The news didn't surprise her.

"He just said Sitwell, Garrett- which we knew about- and Pierce," he answered. "But said it was a long shot that Pierce would even care."

"Sounds like Pierce is high up then," Bobbi mused. "Which makes sense, as he's on the Council." She checked her watch. "Natasha and Clint should be here in an hour and a half to talk 'wedding plans;' we can tell them then."

Hunter nodded. "Wedding plans… we might actually want to finish the planning- if you still wanted to get married, that is… you do want to, right?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Of course I do. Why? Are you having second thoughts?"

"What? Of course not! I want to marry you, that would make me the happiest man ever… probably." Hunter replied, tugging her closer. "But it's in three weeks, and we haven't quite planned everything yet."

"I know," she sighed. "There's just been so much going on."

"As long as us two remember to show up, I think we'll be fine." Hunter replied before smirking. "Did you say an hour and a half?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, glancing at the bed.

"I did," she replied silkily, following his train of thought.

Hunter initiated the kiss, pulling her backwards to the bed and then onto it with him.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**


	15. The Final Preparations

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello! How are you all?**

 **Thank you very, very much to my amazing reviewers!: a tequila sunrise; Kia; grossly sweet; princess2016. That's right, _four_! I was honestly pleasantly surprised, I wasn't expecting so many! I literally sent my co-writer about ten messages!**

 **Kia: Aww, thanks, you're too sweet! I usually try to reply to most reviewers, as I appreciate them taking the time to. I'm actually glad I had you on the edge of your seat! Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

Bobbi was overseeing interrogations of S.H.I.E.L.D agents. They needed a few more agents for their plan of taking down all of HYDRA at once in a week, and more would hopefully make it work without too many casualties. She leant against the desk when she saw Hill leading Hand into the room. It seemed rather ridiculous to interrogate agents, as they would have already passed one to get into S.H.I.E.L.D in the first place- but she supposed that did depend on who was interrogating them. If a Hydra agent did the interrogation, he would let them through. That was why she was helping Hill go through hundreds of files to see who Garrett, Sitwell and now Pierce, had let in- they were all potential Hydra agents. Unfortunately, they couldn't narrow it down much, as anybody could be Hydra.

"Take a seat," Hill stated as Natasha followed them in her, closing the door behind her. Hunter had cleared Hand the previous night, not that anybody had suspected her in the first place. Of course, a few hours were wasted yesterday, when Clint brought up the question of how Darren knew all of this and why he was willingly telling Hunter. But it was the best info they had to go on, so they acted on it.

"What's going on?" Hand asked, although it almost came out as a demand.

Hill stared at Hand silently for a few moments before speaking. "Are you loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Of course," the woman replied, unfazed.

"And only S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Hill asked.

"As opposed to whom?" Hand narrowed her eyes. "Commander Hill, why are my loyalties being questioned?"

"Are you involved with or have any knowledge of HYDRA's infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D?" Hill questioned. Well, that was quick; Bobbi had expected Hill to be more vague to begin with, not that direct. But it didn't matter too much. Hand wouldn't be able to get out of the room if she were Hydra, and this was the one of the easiest ways to get a clear reaction.

Hand's voice immediately fell an octave. "HYDRA, in S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Hill offered a simple nod.

Hand glanced up at Natasha, who was circling the room. "How many?" Natasha didn't answer. "For how long?" Natasha's lips only pursed, which Hand seemed to take as an answer in and of itself. She switched tracks immediately, becoming the cold, calculating, general hard-ass agent Bobbi had always taken her for. It was commonly said that Agent Hand had never met a problem she couldn't organize her way out of. "What precautions are being taken?" Hand asked in an all-business tone. "I've got three ops running currently in the Hub and five more highly-sensitive undercovers—are they in danger?" A shadow passed over her face as a new thought took root. "Could I have sent a member of HYDRA into East Asian peace talks that we've been working on for two decades?"

"Have you?" Natasha asked. Bobbi couldn't help but lean closer to the two way screen, wanting to see her reaction.

"Obviously I would not have done so knowingly," Hand replied firmly. "But seeing as you have chosen to keep this egregious breach in security to yourselves... How long have you known about it, exactly?"

"Doesn't matter," Hill replied. "You're either with us, or against us."

"I'm with you, of course," Hand snapped, losing some of her iciness.

There was a long, awkward, tense silence between them before Natasha nodded and Hill took a visible breath. "We'll look into the peace talks. In the meantime, we have some work to do."

* * *

Bobbi idly watched as Natasha and Clint walked around her apartment, both checking thoroughly for bugs- even though she had already done so, multiple times. So far, they were the only ones that had arrived for the 'wedding planning' meeting. She walked over to the front door and opened it, just in time for Fury and Hill to just walk straight in. Five down, two more to arrive.

When Hill pulled out a bug detector, she groaned. "Seriously, you're going to sweep the place too?" she questioned. Now she understood how Hunter felt when she constantly checked the place. "I'm grabbing myself a drink, anybody want some?"

"I will." Hand replied, walking in from the direction of the bathroom- when did she arrive? "But just water." She shrugged that off as Clint and Natasha also agreed to have a drink.

Since this was mission-related she stayed away from the alcohol and grabbed other drinks they had stuffed in the back of the fridge. With the severity of what they would be discussing and the fact that the other would be driving home after this, there was no way she'd get away with serving booze. As she walked back into the lounge she noticed that Hunter was still not back- he really needed to work out the importance of being on time.

"Let's start this," Fury stated, taking a seat on the chair. Everybody else began to take the seats too, Bobbi included.

Hill was the one who started the discussion, as she pulled a map out of her bag and laid it on the table. "Most of the doors can be automatically locked to all personnel from my office, apart from these three," she informed them. "Therefore, if anything goes wrong, these are the best exits to run for- it would also be the only exits other agents will be able to get out of the building, unless I open it for them."

"It'll be locked from ten, that's when we'll start the main strike, and there's no reason for anybody to not be there- even if they are running late," Hand added, obviously having been hash out the plan a lot.

"So, we're striking on Thursday?" Bobbi asked.

Hill nodded, "Yes. And we have until the end of Friday to get it all sorted out. Thirty hours, and HYDRA needs to be extinct."

"Again."

"And preferably, for good."

Bobbi sighed. If Captain America hadn't been able to get rid of them decades ago, then how did they expect to do it? The plan seemed sound, but there were hundreds of ways it could go wrong.

In times like these she had a funny definition of 'sound.'

"Where are we locking up the HYDRA agents who cooperate?" she questioned. "It has to be somewhere only we can unlock, or they'll be let out."

"We're just finalising a few places now, we know where we'll hold them permanently. However, during the day, we might just have to use the normal cells, and I'll control them from a distance," Hill answered.

Clint looked up at her. "What if you get…"

"Killed." Natasha finished his sentence when he paused to think of a better word.

"She will be on lockdown, nobody will be able to get in or out of her office," Fury answered.

Bobbi glanced up as Hunter finally walked in, dropping his keys onto the table and dumping his bag into the corner. He looked around and looked mildly surprised at everybody- but that didn't last. "Sorry I'm late," he muttered.

"And why are you late?" Clint questioned.

Hunter glanced around before throwing a USB flash drive at Natasha, who caught it easily with one hand but glared at him for it. "That's the recording which is sent when there's a meeting," he told them, walking around and sitting on the arm of the couch where Bobbi was. "I missed part of the number listed, though."

"How did you get it?" Hand asked.

"I was with Martin, and they got the voicemail. I got them to play it on speaker and recorded it on my phone," Hunter replied. "Darren appeared a few seconds after that to collect me- it's like he's got a damn tracker on me how fast he found me."

There were a range of looks before Natasha stood up, grabbing Hunter's arm and hoisting him into a standing position as Clint ran a bug-checker over him. "No bugs," Clint confirmed after a minute.

"Check his bag," Fury ordered.

"How about trackers?" Hand questioned, standing up.

Clint walked over this his bag to check that, after checking Hunter's keys. "It didn't pick any trackers up either- we're all clear."

Everybody relaxed slightly before they got straight back to business.

"For this plan to work, we need some more agents- otherwise we'll be spread thin. There's too many bases for just us seven," Clint pointed out.

"How many bases are there?"

"More then there are us," Fury replied cryptically.

There was a silence for a few moments, which of course, had to be broken by Hunter. "I don't know any S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that I trust, apart from…" he paused. "Those in this room." He sat on the arm of the couch beside Bobbi, taller than her for once in his life.

"Izzy? Isabelle Hartley, we can definitely trust her," Hand informed them, confidently.

Hill looked skeptical. "She's injured other agents, doesn't always follow rules, and has snuck alcohol onto the premises- Unfortunately, that doesn't scream 'I'm a dedicated S.H.I.E.L.D agent to me'."

Hand pursed her lips at the shooting-down of her ally suggestion. However, Bobbi happened to see eye to eye with her on this one. "But you know Hartley, that's who she is," she said. "Spunk doesn't equal HYDRA, and neither does possible alcoholism. As for the fighting…" Bobbi shrugged ruefully. "She just hits hard. If I can't trust Izzy, then I really can't trust anybody."

"She'd be your top-choice candidate?" Fury asked.

"She would," Bobbi confirmed. Hand nodded, satisfied.

"What about Coulson?" Fury suggested.

"He's good friends with Garrett, who before this I presumed would be on our side," Hill replied with a frown.

"It's possible he doesn't know," Bobbi pointed out.

Natasha crossed her arms. "What about the Cavalry?" she suggested.

Bobbi turned to her. Melinda May, surely they could trust her. There was silence after that suggestion, especially as it came from Natasha, who probably didn't trust half the people in this room in the first place. To have her stamp of approval… "Should we bring her in?"

"I doubt she'd come off desk duty."

"If she knew what was going on, she would."

"Wait, the Cavalry's a chick?" Hunter asked, receiving a few glares. "Jeez, just a question."

Bobbi rolled her eyes. The tension in the room remained thick, even after Hunter's stupidity. They didn't know who they could trust, but there were ideas of who. "How about we ask them? We're starting the take down at eleven; that gives us a few hours to meet with people and see if they deserve a bullet in the head, or a seat at the table."

There were a few nods, the odd murmur before Hill spoke up. "I'll set up a few meetings."

* * *

Hunter tried to take a deep breath, but the taste of blood almost made him want to throw up. His knuckles hurt, as well as his leg, face, head and shoulder, but that wasn't about to stop him. He launched himself at Dakini, grabbing him by the arm and managing to twist it backwards, forcing the other agent to bend. It had taken him over fifteen minutes and an intense battering to get this far.

"Break it!" He heard somebody say and put more pressure on the shoulder to do so.

"Stop!" He was ordered by one of the leaders of this fight club, and did so immediately, turning to face him. "Nice job, Hunter. It looked like you wanted to kill him- go get yourself cleaned up."

Hunter nodded, half bowing his head before walking over to one of the sinks. When Darren said it was a fun exercise to improve fighting, he didn't imagine having to fight for his life- theoretically speaking. Only two out of the eighteen others who had fought came out with actual injuries- a broken wrist and what looked like a shattered elbow- he didn't know how they'd explain the latter. Normal combat wounds, such as bruises and light cuts were fine, even a broken nose was dismissed down here. All to show off their fighting skills without killing one another.

After washing his face- and most of the blood off- he drank a few gulps of water that were tainted with the taste of his own blood. Then he quickly took a few more pictures with his phone, saving them straight onto his memory chip. That was the second time he had taken pictures over the last three hours, but things looked like they were ending, so he took the memory card out and put it in the lacing of his underwear- he made a mental note to not wash it. He then made sure all of the photos were deleted off his phone and dumped it into his bag.

Darren walked up to him as he dropped his phone. "Hey, how's your head?"

"I'm pretty sure I blacked out there for a few moments." Hunter replied.

Darren laughed, "I'm pretty sure Dakini was going easy on you, if not, you would know if you were knocked out. C'mon, let's grab something to eat, I'm starving!"

Hunter scoffed, "You didn't even fight, how're you hungry?"

"I'm always hungry." Darren replied before walking to the door, with Hunter following- they were both searched and when one of the higher up agents picked up his phone and made him unlock it- he knew Darren was the one who mentioned it. Thankfully, he was given it back after a few minutes and let out.

"Where're we eating?" Hunter asked, actually wanted to down a bottle of painkillers, not eat, but couldn't just disappear.

He received a shrug as a reply, and knew that meant they'd be heading to the cafeteria on base- which was actually a lot better than having to leave. He just wondered how they'd explain the blood.

* * *

Thank you for reading!

 **Who is enjoying the new season (well, second half of the season)?**

 **Bobbi and Hunter in it was, amazing, their interaction. But, I don't want to give any spoilers, so... PM me or leave a review if you want to talk!**


	16. The Takedown

**Author's Note:**

 **Shout out to Princess2016 and grossly-sweet for reviewing! You two are amazing!**

 **Who's seen the most recent episode of AoS... Huntingbird... there were tears in my eyes!**

* * *

Bobbi walked into the meeting room; as she closed the door she double checked that it was locked. "Am I late?" She asked, looking around at the four other people in the room: Hand, Natasha, Clint and Sitwell.

"You're right on time," Clint replied.

"If you've got a cell or any potential recording devices, get rid of them." Natasha ordered.

Bobbi cleared her throat and slid her phone out of her pocket. "Of course; anybody else need me to put theirs in the box?" She offered, and then accepted Clint's phone and Sitwell's.

"What's this about?" Sitwell inquired once he had parted with his phone.

Bobbi placed the three phones into a box- which blocks all communication and signal, then slid that box into the wall; she knew it would go straight to Hill on the other side. She turned back around, walking past Sitwell and discreetly waving a bug wand over him. With a nod to Hand, she confirmed that he was clean.

"Let's get started," Hand began, not answering Sitwell's inquiry. "We need to get this all sorted quickly, preferably by the end of the day." She spoke. Everybody in the room- apart from Sitwell- knew what she was talking about.

Natasha leant forward, resting one hand on the table. "I'll go first." She offered dangerously, her eyes lingering on Sitwell. Her gazed moved to Clint when he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Easy, Nat, we don't want to kill him. Let's give him a chance to talk first." He eased.

Sitwell looked confused, so Bobbi decided to help him out. "They are talking about the interrogation."

He nodded for a second. "Interrogation of whom?"

Bobbi looked at him and waited until she had his attention. "Of you, Sitwell."

An offended look instantly made its way to Sitwell's face. "Excuse me! You cannot interrogate a superior-"

Hand's eyes narrowed, as she was his superior. "Yes we can; we have the director's permission."

"I am insulted that you believe you must interrogate me! I haven't done anything wrong. I can prove it- what is this inquiry about?" He demanded.

Hand crossed her hands on the table as she addressed him. "You involvement with HYDRA." She answered him simply.

"I-I, uhh… I don't know what you're talking about." Sitwell spluttered out, obviously taken by surprise. For somebody who had been trained by S.H.I.E.L.D. and probably HYDRA, he was terrible at lying- anybody would be able to see that right now.

Hand made a point of writing something down.

"What are you writing?" Sitwell asked, a speck of sweat dripping down his forehead.

"Just that you didn't appear to be surprised that HYDRA was within S.H.I.E.L.D." She replied.

Bobbi noticed Sitwell's hand twitch and quickly disarmed him of his taser. "We don't want you getting any ideas."

Natasha's eyes darkened. "My turn yet?" She asked, but was ignored.

"Sitwell, just tell us everything and you'll receive a lighter sentence." Clint offered the option.

When he didn't make any attempt to say anything, Hand gave Natasha the signal. Within seconds, she had flown over the table, grabbing him by the neck and throwing him down on the floor. She stopped when Sitwell shouted out, "Okay! Okay!" But that was after his nose was broken, he was face down on the floor with one arm painfully twisted behind his back, on the point of breaking, three fingers bent at awkward angles and Natasha's heel almost penetrating his skin at the base of his back.

"What do you want to know?" Sitwell grunted.

Hand signalled for Natasha to release him, which she slowly did, forcing him back into his chair. "Everything."

Sitwell glanced around at all of them, hesitating. Natasha's knife dug into the base of his neck. "Speak up." She ordered.

"Yes, HYDRA is within S.H.I.E.L.D. It has been since its inception." He began immediately.

Bobbi and Hand exchanged a glance, and she stood with Clint. She had to wonder how somebody so easy to break managed to make it into S.H.I.E.L.D, especially one who was a double agent.

* * *

"Izzy, I need to tell you something," Bobbi said, motioning her out of the conference room. At the front one of their superiors was talking, but there were so many agents crammed in the room-breaking all sorts of fire safety codes, she was sure-that no one would notice if they snuck towards the exit, only a few people to Bobbi's right. The meeting was unimportant, set up last minute by Hill, and Bobbi's last chance to alert Hartley to the situation before it went down.

"What is it? Did Hunter say something stupidly funny again?" Izzy asked with a small smirk, nearly a real smile.

"No, this is important," Bobbi gave a slight shake of her head. She motioned toward the door again, beginning to edge towards it.

Izzy seemed to catch her drift and walked towards the door, slipping out of it undetected. "Such as?" She inquired curiously, her expression sobering up at Bobbi's serious tone.

"I don't know quite how to say this, but...HYDRA has infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.," Bobbi told her, watching her face for her reaction carefully. Natasha had made her promise to do so and silence the problem immediately if anything seemed remotely off in her expression.

Izzy let out a humourless laugh after a moment. "You had me there for a second. Hydra? Very funny." She paused, looking at Bobbi, her expression dropping. "Hydra?"

"I'm telling you because you need to know," she pressed. "The uprising is today, and we need to know you're on the right side."

She pulled out a knife, twirling it in her hand. "I've always wanted to kill some Nazi arses." She turned and looked at Bobbi seriously. "Which side are you on?"

Bobbi looked at her coldly. "You even have to ask?"

"You did."

She considered it a moment. "True enough. But the uprising's not real. We're staging it to flush them out, and I wanted your help to pull it off."

Izzy swung her knife, putting it back into her holster. "It'll be real for them. What's the plan?"

"Come on, I'll explain it to you," Bobbi replied, jerking her head down the hallway. Her friend followed her warily, her hand hovering next to her own hip, ready to strike should she need to.

* * *

Hunter took a quick breath as he walked into the meeting, taking a seat almost instantly and looking around, bored.

"Hey… something doesn't feel right." Darren told Hunter, practically appearing behind him.

"What?" Hunter asked, turning around to face his 'friend'.

Darren grabbed his arm, pulling him up. "My brother's not here- I never get invited to a meeting unless he's here. C'mon." He stated, pulling him out of the room.

Hunter's eyes bulged at the word 'brother'- who was his brother?- but the fact that Darren had just worked out that this meeting was a fake was worrying. Who else could work it out? "You have a brother?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I didn't get here because of my good looks- or jumping ship with my girlfriend." Darren replied, the last line an obvious dig at Hunter, but he didn't look back as he continued dragging Hunter down the corridor.

Suddenly they stopped, Hunter being tugged into a different room- another meeting? What? This didn't seem good. "What's going on?" He asked, forcing his hand to remain still and not grab his weapon. His head whipped around when he heard gunfire, presumably from the other meeting he had been in. As he turned his head back, ready to question it innocently, he caught eye of a gun and pulled his out.

Darren and Hunter faced each other, both pointing their guns at each other- aiming to kill. "Who did you tell?" He demanded.

"I didn't tell anybody." Hunter replied firmly before asking, "What's going on?"

"Not even your fiancé?" Darren questioned, obviously not believing him.

All of their phones began going off, and without looking, Hunter knew it was their 'fake Hydra coming out'- although, looking at the faces of the other occupants in the room, it looked like it was about to start an actual uprising. "No, I didn't tell Bobbi _anything_."

Darren's finger twitched, almost causing Hunter to shoot him, but there was no way he could get out of this situation alive if he did pull the trigger- although it looked like he wouldn't get out of this situation at all. "I wish I could believe that."

Hunter glanced over at one of the men, checking his phone after it went off again. "Summers, we've got a mission. Either kill him or let's go."

"Sorry, Hun-" Darren started as his hand tensed around the gun.

But Hunter didn't let him even finish his sentence as he pulled his own trigger, watching the blood splat out of his first friend at S.H.I.E.L.D's head. Darren fell to the floor with a thud, lifelessly dropping his gun. As he lifted his arm to shoot the other occupants of the room, he was blown back as a bullet hit him in the chest, hitting the wall behind him- which was the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the vest beneath his top and groaning.

He managed to jump up and get a few shots out, actually shooting one of the fellow agents whilst running to the door. Another hit on his protective vest made him almost fall over and halted his shooting as he tried to keep his balance over the pain. He forced himself to run faster, but, unfortunately, was not fast enough. He fell to the ground after a jolting pain went through his leg.

Turning to face them, he fired his gun directly at him, surprised when he wasn't already riddled with bullets and that they all fell to the ground. Although, as he sat up, he noticed a knife imbedded in one guy's skull. "Hartley?"

"Come on, no time for lounging around." She replied, jogging over to him and pulling him up. "You good?"

Hunter nodded. "HYDRA…"

"I know." Hartley interrupted him, throwing a piece of material to him, which he used to quickly tie up his bullet wound. "Bobbi told me."

"Of course she did. Let's go." Hunter replied when he had finished. He almost toppled over when he stepped on his injured leg, but he worked through it- he was sure it was just a flesh wound, after all.

* * *

Bobbi glanced behind her, mentally cursing Hartley for convincing her to go on with the mission while she found Hunter. So much for "we'll catch up" and "we'll be right behind you." She rolled her eyes for emphasis before spotting an agent armed with a large gun peeking out of one of the rooms along the corridor. "Hail HYDRA!" She called out to him.

"Hail HYDR—" He had a bullet lodged in his brain before he could finish the rest of it.

"Never thought I'd hear you saying those words," growled a voice from behind her. She turned around.

"May," Bobbi nodded with relief. "Fury convinced you to come off desk duty, I see. I'm glad."

"Cut the sentiment. I'm just here to kick some HYDRA ass before I go right back to it," the Asian specialist replied.

Bobbi nodded. "Still good knowing you're on my side." She was met with an icy glance. "Which section-"

"I'm about to head out to another base, secure it while Hand moves on." May replied in surprisingly more words than Bobbi had expected.

Bobbi once again nodded; she knew Hand was going to be the one to secure the fridge and that they weren't going to hold any HYDRA personnel there yet; they were going to be held at a new prison on the water, which hadn't been used yet. She didn't have chance to respond before both her and May's defenses went up due to footsteps- however, when she relaxed slightly when she heard their voices, May did not.

"You know, you could have come in throwing knives before I got shot." Hunter complained before a gun was pointed at them, before Hartley's face appeared followed by both of them walking out.

Hartley was rolling her eyes. "You think he'd be grateful that I stopped the bullets from going in his head." She said sarcastically.

"Or that one of your knives didn't end up in his head," Bobbi smirked. "Everyone good to move on?"

"Whose side are you on?" Hunter questioned, almost pouting.

Hartley elbowed him. "We're good."

"Yeah, we're good." Hunter agreed, sobering slightly.

"I'm on both of your sides," Bobbi replied. She stopped. "Wait, where's May?" Turning around, she was just in time to see the specialist wrap her legs around some agent's neck-presumably HYDRA-and squeeze hard enough to knock him out cold before flipping off of him and landing on both feet.

"You all talk too much," May told them, disappearing down the next hallway.

Hunter looked at them, confused. "Dude, May can do that?" He questioned in shock.

Hartley rolled her eyes. "We're wasting time."

"Very much so," Bobbi agreed. She began to move down the hallway again, keeping her gun pointed in front of her in case of any unpleasant surprises.

Hunter remained close to her, also holding his gun up and ready. "Don't die out there." He muttered before stepping away from her, looking down a different corridor.

"You either," she called after him. Bobbi glanced at Hartley. "We should probably split up too. Cover more ground that way."

Hartley nodded sharply, turning around immediately and leaving without another word. Soon, both Hartley and Hunter were out of sight.

Bobbi continued on, alert for any sound that could signal danger. The halls of S.H.I.E.L.D. were eerily empty.

It seemed as if things had gone dead, which made Bobbi even more suspicious- it had only been four hours since they outed HYDRA; there was no way they were able to eradicate all of HYDRA this quickly.

A bullet hit the wall beside her. "Identify yourself." A strong male voice demanded.

"Same to you," she shot back, lowering her gun and slowly turning around. A man she didn't recognise was standing there with his pointed at her.

He looked at her skeptically. "Agent Grant Ward." He replied, not lowering his gun.

"Agent Barbara Morse," she replied. "Level Six. Lower your weapon, Agent Ward."

Ward lowered his weapon slowly, he glanced around. "Why is everybody shooting at… everybody?" He questioned.

"It would take a while to explain," Bobbi evaded the question. "For now, just know that there are some bad people running around, and sometimes they're hard to differentiate from the good people."

"How do I know I can trust you to not shoot me?" Ward questioned, narrowing his eyes at her, scrutinising her.

"You can't," Bobbi answered truthfully. "But it's either you come along and help—" She raised her own gun now that his was down so that its barrel was directed exactly between his eyes. "-or I cuff you and lock you up somewhere for us to sort out later."

Ward raised one hand. "I guess I'll have to trust you. Lead the way, Agent Morse."

She smiled. "You first."

Ward half smiled at her before stepping past her and walking down the hall. As they neared to the end, he slowed, raising his gun and peering around the corner. "Which way?" He questioned.

"Right." Bobbi answered shortly. She looked over her shoulder, ensuring they wouldn't get any nasty surprises from behind. Remaining close to Ward, she tried to recall everything she knew about him.

" _Report update, we believe it is all clear. Guide all S.H.I.E.L.D personnel to the designated areas for de-briefing and screening."_ Maria's voice came through her comms, and she couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. " _Status report from all."_

Bobbi half listened to the others checking in, the odd report, but focused on the male in front of her as they continued to check the halls- she had already checked this section thrice, but didn't speak up. As they neared to the next corridor, he slowed again. However, this time, when he peered around the corner, a gun went off.

Bobbi jumped straight into action, ready to fight back if needed. As she opened her mouth to see who was firing, she realised that it was _Ward_ who had fired his weapon. "What did you do?"

"Taking out the enemy. C'mon." Ward responded, completely unaffected by the fact that he just shot somebody. She followed cautiously; however, upon seeing who he had shot- an unarmed recent lab recruit- she knew there was no way to identify that they were the enemy. Unless he already knew who he intended to kill.

"How did you know?"

"Know what? You told me." Ward replied, his steps seeming to become more controlled as they continued down the corridor.

"That he was HYDRA… or, as you put it, the enemy."

There was a long pause before he jerked around, firing his weapon. If Bobbi hadn't been expecting that, there was a high chance she would have been on the floor with a bullet in her head right now. She grabbed his wrist, throwing his arm up and slipping underneath it. She heard him grunt when she rammed her elbow into the back of his neck.

Bobbi turned to face him; unfortunately, at the same time he spun around, knocking her gun out of her hand. She managed to block his moves and knock his gun from his hand, but there was no immediate winner. Moving one hand down, she allowed him to hit her elbow, and used his weight to throw him over her shoulder into the wall and down to the ground- where he did not stay long enough for her liking.

As her fingers grasped his weapon, she was sent flying backwards, him grabbing her around the neck. She crashed into the wall when he released her. Her eyes caught the glint of the gun just behind him. With a fluid motion, she dropped to the ground- almost as if she was still falling from the last attack, and rolled past him, grabbing the weapon and jumping back up.

Ward recovered from the move quickly, regaining his balance and lunging for her, fingers wrapping harshly around her gun arm. He yanked and jerked her closer to himself, lifting a knee and ramming it into her gut in one fluid movement. He released her with one hand and started wrestling the gun from her.

Bobbi clenched her jaw, gripping the gun painfully as she stomped on his foot at the same time she thrusted her elbow into his ribs. As she pulled away from him, his hand was still around her own, the gun squished between her fingers. "Ward, stand down." She attempted.

He growled and, suddenly changing tactics, put all of his power into shoving the gun from her hand, sending it flying to the ground. His hand grabbed hold of her face and pushed her backwards, launching forward to grab the gun.

She threw herself in the other direction, grabbing the other gun and spinning around. Her weapon fired a heartbeat after his.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **Shout-out to my co-writer for this story: Sanctuaria.**

 **Shout-out to a helper/beta for this chapter: ThisVioletofMine.**


	17. The Aftermath

**Author's note:**

 **Hello! Sorry about the seven week wait! Sanctuaria and I don't like posting anything half-arsed. And unfortunately, life caught up- due to our time differences and schedules, there was only an hour window a day in which we could potentially be on at the same time... and it was only more recently when we both were able to actually focus together.**

 **But, we have finished the story, there's only one chapter after this one!**

 **Thank you very much to the reviewers and support so far for this story!**

* * *

"Are you even a damn doctor?" Hunter complained frustrated as he pulled away from the 'supposed doctor'.

"Yes, would you like to see my degree from Harvard, the number one medical school in the world?" the doctor replied back snappily.

Hunter scoffed. "Actually yes, I'd like to see that."

"I'll take you back to my office after; it's hanging on the wall," the woman snarked. "Don't make me sedate you until then." She pressed downwards hard on his shoulder. "Get down and stay down so I can do my work and get on to more _appreciative_ patients."

"I don't have time for this- just go and put a bandaid on somebody else," Hunter dismissed her begrudgingly.

"For insurance reasons, I can't just leave you here untreated to bleed out," the woman replied. "Unfortunately."

He glared at her but remained still. "Hurry up then, I don't have all bloody day." The door opened behind him but he couldn't see who it was from his position under the doctor's firm grip on his upper torso and shoulders.

"Hey, Sonya," greeted the newcomer, making Hunter's eyes widen in recognition. "I'm looking for my fiancé. He's 5'9, light brown hair, kind of a smartass?"

"Right here, love." Hunter grunted. He'd recognise her voice anywhere.

Sonya glared down at him. "You're getting married to this jackass, Bobbi? He's been a thorn in my side since my shift started."

"When you're done with him, want to get my head checked?" his fiancée joked.

"Head? Did she say head?" Hunter questioned, forcing himself up into a seated position and ignoring the doctor once again. Even though her voice was definitely joking and teasing, he'd rather _know_ rather than infer she was fine. "Check her first," he insisted.

"I'm just kidding, Hunter," Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Only thing that got hurt was my tac vest. And my ribs area bit bruised. I'm fine."

Hunter looked her over. "You sure?" He asked, swatting at Sonya when she tried pushing him back down. "Hey! It's my damn leg, I don't need to lay down!"

"Just do as the doctor says," Bobbi told him with an exasperated voice, "so we can go home."

He hesitated, not wanting to look like she had him wiped, but then laid down as ordered. "So, have we defeated HYDRA?" He asked.

Her smile faded to something grimmer, more mocking. "I guess we'll know in another sixty years, when the remnants we missed try an uprising again."

"If we live that long." Hunter laughed, even though that prospect wasn't too far from the truth- if he lived another sixty years, that would be a miracle. "At least we defeated them this time in time for the wedding!" he said on a more positive note.

That tugged a smile out of her before she turned to the doctor again. "How much longer do you think, Sonya? If it's going to be a while I can go help the other doctors with some of the first-aid type stuff; it's crazy out there."

"Just a few seconds," Sonya answered. "Now that he's _sitting still_."

Hunter rolled his eyes accordingly. "Surely a great doctor could stitch somebody up whilst they're moving- aren't you supposed to be trained to do it in a moving vehicle?" he questioned, making sure to keep Bobbi in his sights.

Sonya ignored him, snapping off her gloves after setting the needle aside. She pressed a thin bandage over the stitched up wound and taped it down quickly. "There, you're good to go, Agent Hunter. Now get out."

"Thank you," Hunter muttered, more out of a habit than anything else as he jumped up. He paused, holding back a painful groan- that was a bad idea- but quickly shrugged it off. "Wanna get out of here before Romanoff decides she _does_ want to murder me for my involvement?"

"Hell yes," Bobbi smiled, offering him her hand. "Although Romanoff and Barton have already left for another base, so I think you're safe."

He wrapped one arm around her, before swinging the other around her and pulling her into a hug. "Let's go, maybe we can play _our_ version of doctor," he suggested.

She grimaced, pulling away from him. "Ow. Maybe not." She rolled her left shoulder before pressing a light hand to her ribcage.

Hunter looked around. "Where did Sonya go? Maybe we should get you checked out."

"Oh, just come on," she said, heading out of the med bay.

He followed her, although, eyeing her again to make sure she was okay. He definitely wanted her to at least make it down the aisle… and for the honeymoon.

* * *

"God I'm tired," Bobbi said as she pulled open the front door, punctuating her statement with a yawn. She dropped her bag next to the door, unwilling to take even another step carrying its weight.

Hunter kicked her bag to the side and closed the front door, not having even brought his bag out of the car. "How about we just go to bed then?" his suggested, already looking wistfully in that direction.

"Like I was going anywhere else," she replied, yawning again. Two in fifteen seconds, that had to be some kind of record.

He yawned after her. "You're making me even more tired," he complained, kicking off his shoes.

Hers were off by the time she reached the bedroom and flopped down face-first on the bed.

He practically copied her movements, apart from that he seemed to go down onto the bed in slow motion and rolled onto his back. "Night, love."

A muffled grunt was all she could bring herself to say back in response before she was out like a light.

* * *

 _Knock, knock, knock._ "Hunter, shut up, I'm trying to sleep," Bobbi mumbled, snuggling further into the covers.

"I thought that was in my head," Hunter grumbled. "Make it stop." _Knock, knock, knock._

"Can't. Too much work," she murmured. "Maybe it'll stop on its own."

Hunter threw a hand over his face. "It's not… and I'm not getting up- I'm more injured than you," he defended.

"I'm more exhausted than you," she replied, eyes still lidded. _Knock, knock, knock._ Her eyes snapped open. "Fine, I'm coming!" she stated loudly to the wall towards the door-end of the apartment. She tottered sleepily towards the bedroom door, then looked down at herself as she traversed the hallway-had there always been this many things in it to trip over?-and came to the conclusion that she really didn't care that her clothes were hiked up and disheveled from sleeping in them at the moment, not when whatever inconsiderate person was at the door was waking them up at this ungodly hour. He checked the time as she passed the kitchen: 11:04 AM. Okay, so not that ungodly.

She pulled open the door without even looking through the peephole, ready to give whoever it was a stern talking to.

"Mom?"

"Hello, Barbara!" her mother said happily, engulfing her in a hug.

"Mom?" Bobbi asked again. "What...what are you doing here?" Her ribs twinges painfully and she extracted herself from her mother's grip.

Her mother, Susan, smiled. "To help you, of course! You must be so stressed with the wedding coming up in a few days, I thought I'd come a little earlier."

She gave a scoffing little laugh. "It can't be in a few days…" She paused, trying to wake up enough to remember the date. "Holy shit, the wedding is in three days!"

"I knew you needed my help." Susan commented as she walked past her into the house. "Maybe I'll start by cleaning up- is your place always this messy?"

"Umm, no...it's just been crazy at work." She nearly leaped forward as her mom reached for her go-bag. "Don't touch that!"

Susan stepped back in surprise, a knowing smile on her face. "Keeping secrets from your mother?" she teased.

Hunter walked out of the bedroom and looked at them confused. "Whoa… Susan? Why's your mother here?"

"Yeah, something like that," she muttered before turning to Hunter. "To help with the wedding, apparently."

"Don't worry, I won't be infringing upon your living space," Susan assured them. "Your father and I have a hotel room nearby. But parking in Washington is horrendous! He's still circling the block looking for a spot." She looked between Bobbi and Hunter at their mussed clothing and the deer-in-the-headlights looks they were giving one another. "Oh dear, perhaps we should have called first? I'm not interrupting something, am I?" Her eyes twinkled at Bobbi. "Couldn't wait these few days for your marital bed?"

There was a pause as Bobbi's mind went completely, horrendously blank. Hunter picked up the slack. "No, no...no! We were just sleeping. Got back late last night after… hanging out with some mates, and just crashed on the bed. We weren't… Not that we don't do that, but you didn't interrupt us doing that. We were just sleeping." Hunter stopped at Bobbi's glare. "That's not helping. Susan, don't feel like you have to stay in a hotel, you and Mr. Morse are _family_ \- you are more than welcome to stay here."

"No, no, we wouldn't want to impose," Susan assured him. "I remember the craziness of getting ready for my own wedding-you and Barbara will want some space of your own in the next few days."

Hunter shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous- we'll have plenty of time after the wedding. You both are always welcome."

"We've already booked our hotel, but that's very kind of you," Susan replied. "Bobbi, is there anything I can help either of you with? Wedding preparations? Breakfast?"

"Umm…" Bobbi looked at Hunter.

He shrugged. "We could always talk over breakfast?"

"I'll make it," Susan said immediately. "How does Belgian waffles sound?"

"Great, Mom," Bobbi replied. "I...I guess I'll get in the shower then."

"I'll go put on my jeans, then I'll come and help you in the kitchen." Hunter said to Susan.

Bobbi disappeared into the bedroom, Hunter following her. As soon as the door was closed behind them, she turned to him. "Sorry about that. I didn't realise she would ambush us."

Hunter grabbed a clean top from their dresser before turning to face her. "Bob, it's fine. It's kinda nice that she's turned up. Besides, we haven't really _planned_ our wedding."

"We have a venue," Bobbi returned.

He noted. "Yes, we do. Do you have a dress?"

She smiled. "I have a few that I have my eye on. Now that Mom's here, maybe she can help me. Hill just keeps telling me I look great in all of them, Natasha is more concerned with what I'm wearing _underneath_ the dress when you pull it off me afterwards, and Hartley is just shoving jeans and t-shirts in my arms instead."

"I _definitely_ approve of Romanoff's train of thought," Hunter chuckled, pulling her closer. There was a sound from the kitchen. "Your mother's here," he repeated. "I need to get dressed and go out there."

"Yes, you do," Bobbi agreed, pulling out some fresh clothes and heading for the bathroom.

"Love you." Hunter called after her, a chuckle in his tone.

* * *

Ending her last word with a flourish and a little smile, Bobbi stood up from the couch cushion where she had been writing her vows and folded the sheet of white paper in half and then in half again, preparing to hide it among her S.H.I.E.L.D. equipment so that Hunter couldn't find it when he got home.

"What's that?" her mother inquired, walking out of the kitchen with two hot mugs of coffee.

"Nothing," Bobbi said immediately out of habit from her high school days, stuffing the piece of paper into her back pocket.

Susan placed the mugs down as she hummed a sound of disbelief. "Sure, that's why you're hiding it."

Bobbi smiled ruefully, pulling it back out. "No, sorry, it's just my vows. A first draft of them anyways." She proffered it to her mother. "Want to read?"

"I'd love to!" Susan said with absolute delight. "Oh, I remember writing my vows for your father, spent a long time on them. And your father made it all up on the spot." She shook her head in the long term complaint about Bobbi's father not preparing his vows and then stuttering all the way through them from being so nervous.

"Here," Bobbi handed them to her and then took one of the coffee mugs.

It took barely a second before her mother began her critique. "You cannot insult your future husband in your vows, Barbara!"

"Oh, what, those?" Bobbi leaned over her shoulder to peer at the paper indifferently. "Those aren't _real_ insults, Mom."

Susan gave her a scolding look and tutted. "Barbara, I thought we raised you better. Vows are supposed to be filled with love and support and are a foundation of the beginning of your lives together! You don't want to start that with insults and negativity!"

"I've watched _How I Met Your Mother_ ; I know what complete BS marriage vows are," Bobbi rolled her eyes. "And nothing I've said in here isn't true, Mom! I love Lance Hunter with all my heart-which it says right here by the way—" She jabbed a finger at the paper. "-but that doesn't mean he's not a jackass 58% of the time. And shouldn't that just speak to the strength of our love, that we're still getting married despite knowing we have our problems because what draws us together is a million times stronger than what pushes us apart?"

"Okay, but…" Susan picked up the pen. "Let's get rid of the 'sometimes I want to murder him' part… and you don't want to say that," she muttered, crossing out some of her daughters vows.

"But I _choose_ not to! Again, the power of our love!" Bobbi protested. "And a bit of Tasha's vodka."

"Barbara, alcohol is never the answer- sometimes you run out," Susan half-scolded as she began scribbling some more things out and adding notes. "Don't worry, we'll make sure these vows are perfect before your wedding."

"They're fine _now_ , Mom," Bobbi muttered, leaning in closer to see what her mother was scribbling in the margin. "What?! No, I'm not saying that!" She tore the paper out of her mother's hands and plucked the pen out of her grip. "That's so sappy and romantic!" Bobbi took them and headed for her bedroom, shaking her head.

"Vows are supposed to be sappy and romantic, dear!" Susan called after her as the bedroom door closed behind her. "Not subtle threats to kill each other every two lines!"

"You're too old-fashioned!" Bobbi shouted back through the door. "This is what modern-day love looks like!"

From all the way in the living room, she could hear her mother snort in amusement. "Fine. Talk to me when you come to your senses, Barbara."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! A Review would be most appreciated!**


	18. The Wedding

**Author's note:**

 **That Agents of SHIELD finale was... probably my favourite episode of the whole season!**

 **Huge thank you and shout out to Grossly-Sweet who helped with a few chapters and ideas in this story, most importantly the last two!**

* * *

Hunter walked through the halls at S.H.I.E.L.D, surprised at how tidy everything was. All of the bodies had been cleared away and there was no sign on blood- it was also creepily silent.

"Hunter!" Natasha Romanoff called, making him jump and swing around ready to attack. "Debriefing is this way."

He glanced around before nodding and following her to one of the biggest lecture rooms, which was filled with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. He recognised a lot of them from around the base, but hadn't spoken to… well, nearly all of them. To him that was a good thing, as most of the people he had been encouraged to talk to weren't good people.

He looked at Romanoff questioningly, which caused her to pull him down a few steps and into one of the free chairs before walking off. Straightening himself up, he decided to stay put.

"As most of you are aware, there has been conflict between agents in the last few days." Fury began as he appeared at the first of the hall, silencing everybody effectively. "HYDRA." He paused. "I am not going to stand up here and lie to say, ask you to believe that it was a training exercise like some would have liked me to. HYDRA had infiltrated our ranks in SHIELD, and an elite team were put together to eradicate them and find the source. There is still much unknown and due to the nature of this situation. To combat this, all agents will undergo mandatory interrogations."

There was a murmur as everybody started to talk.

"If you were involved in HYDRA, we urge you to come forward and you will receive a lighter sentence. If you do not, we will find out and there will be harsh consequences. If you suspect anybody was affiliated with HYDRA, we also ask for you to come forward and tell Agent Hand, Agent Hill, or Agent Romanoff; they will be conducting your interrogations."

"Until you are cleared, all agents are required to remain on base, and unless you are told otherwise, you will remain in your seats."

* * *

Hunter found it extremely uncomfortable and awkward that he had to sit in a room with Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill for the interrogations. Especially, as they weren't interrogating _him_. It appeared that because he helped in the motion to take down HYDRA, he needed to be included. Why they needed three people in the same room, he did not know, maybe they were trying to bore him to death.

The questions were getting more and more repetitive, to the extent that he would rather have stayed at home with Bobbi's parents.

"Did you ever suspect anybody of being HYDRA?" Hill asked, for the hundredth time that day.

"No. I heard about them in the war, and know what happened. But everybody in SHIELD is too young to have been around in the war and be members of HYDRA," the interrogatee responded. "At least, that's what I thought."

"All right," Hill said. "Please stay here, Agent Morrison. We'll review the polygraph data and then decide whether we believe you or not." She gave a slight jerk of her head towards Hunter, who scrambled up from his seat and headed out the door. She followed, making sure it sealed as locked behind them.

"What did you think?" Hunter asked. "Was he lying?"

"I think we're going to have to stick you somewhere where you're of more use," Hill said with a hint of a smirk. "I've got some files in my office that you can look through while I talk to the polygraph administrator about Morrison's results." She pressed her thumb against the pad outside her door, and Hunter heard the locking mechanism disengage as it accepted her fingerprint. She led him inside, indicating he should take a seat. Boxes of files were strewn all around, her office messier than Hunter had ever seen it.

She selected one seemingly at random and plopped it on the part of the desk not directly in front of him but a little off to the side, then pulled a thick, stapled packet of papers off the top. "Here's a list of agents and cadets currently working or training at the Academies. Go through the names; see if any of them ring a bell to you as mentioned by someone you knew in HYDRA."

Hunter looked down at the tiny, eight-point font on the papers that were almost entirely black with names. "Fun."

"If you're not sure of one, their files are in that box and in these over here in the same order as they're on the manifest," Hill informed him, pulling out her phone. He began scanning the names as she made a brief phone call, telling the polygraph guy to come up to her office once he'd finished all of the sessions he was currently monitoring. When she was done, Hunter began reading the names on the list out loud, with Hill occasionally correcting his pronunciation of an exotic name she was familiar with so as to have more chance of jogging his memory.

"Marlene Becks...no. Anne Weaver...no. Niggitiya—"

" _Nithia_ ," Hill corrected.

"Nithia Patel, no," Hunter said, shaking his head. "Catherine Baker...actually, that name's kind of familiar." He looked up.

"And if I remember correctly, her interrogation was a bit sketchy too," Hill nodded, writing it down. "Go on."

"Don Fields, no. Brandon Chase, no. Caroline McDonald, no…" Hunter continued reading names off the list for several minutes, only a few out of hundreds actually sticking out to him, and he began to suspect he was just making them all sound suspicious on his own head now. He frowned at the next two names. "Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. I feel like I've heard their names somewhere, but I have no idea if it was in connection to HYDRA or not."

"I'm inclined to say not," Hill said, typing something into her computer. "These are snippets of their recorded interrogations." She gestured to the large screen on the wall behind her, which a second later brightened with the feed of an interrogation room much like the one they had left earlier.

" _Hello," the man said in a definite Scottish accent as soon as the interrogator-Agent Hand-had walked in. "Can I take this opportunity to pitch this idea to you that I've had for a while-it's called the Night-Night gun. Although Simmons thinks I should change that name to something less childish, but I keep telling her there's nothin' childish about that name! Anyway, here's how it works—"_

" _Agent Fitz, we are not here to talk about one of your toys," Hand said, tight-lipped, as she sat down._

" _It's not a toy! It's a less lethal way to shoot somebody…" Fitz protested. "See, we insert cartridges of dendrotoxin instead of billets, but they have a stopping power of—"_

Hill stopped the video, pulling up a different one, though the interrelation room was identical. Agent Hand was also doing this interrogation.

" _I'm sure Fitz is using this time to pitch his Night-Night gun, but don't you agree this is a terrible name for a weapon? A non-lethal weapon, but still. I also have some concerns about the way my senior Biotechnology and its Applications in the Field of Entomology class is being run-I'm not entirely satisfied and I'd like to report this inaccuracy—"_

" _Stop talking, Agent Simmons," Agent Hand ordered. "Why do you even think you were brought in here?"_

" _Interrogations due to the recent attack of HYDRA," Simmons answered, slowing her rapid-fire speech for just a moment before continuing. "But honestly I'm sure you'll discover I have nothing to do with that. As if I'd have enough time to be mixed up some some evil organization's nefarious schemes with the amount of homework I have to do! My Bacterial Pathogenesis class alone—"_

Hill stopped that one as well. "As I said, not particularly _HYDRA_ to me. The only rule those two seem to be liable to break is the one regarding inter-agent fraternisation."

Hunter chuckled. "Who doesn't break the inter-agent fraternisation?" he questioned, seeing as he _knew_ most agents did. Hell, he's been breaking that rule since his first day here and nobody seemed to mind. He looked up at the screen where it was paused on the female agent and wondered for a second if she was HYDRA and just really good at hiding it- but they didn't seem like the type. "We could always de _hydra_ te them, if you wanted to be sure," he suggested with a chuckle, but quickly forced himself to sober up at Hill's glare.

* * *

Hunter adjusted his tie and looked around. It was strange that he was in a tux- and one stolen from S.H.I.E.L.D by Clint. He looked back at his best man, Idaho, and his three grooms-man, including his soon-to-be-wife's ex-boyfriend. "When is she supposed to be coming out?" he asked Clint, getting slightly concerned that the wedding was now a minute late starting- and it wasn't his fault.

"When she's ready," Clint said calmly. "No one's going to tell the bride that she's late to her own wedding." He cracked a smile. "Worried that she's run off? At least I'm still standing here behind you, so you can't blame me."

"I'm sure I'd find a way," Hunter muttered under his breath as he turned back to look down the altar.

"So am I," Clint muttered from behind him.

Hunter glanced behind him, deciding to not retort back, now wasn't the time. But he didn't miss Clint's smirk. "Smartarse," he muttered again, although it wasn't quietly.

Clint clapped him on the back. "I'm just teasing you, Hunter. You deserve her, and Bobbi deserves you. The two of you are going to make one hell of a husband and wife." Before Hunter could say anything, he tapped him on the shoulder. "And look, there they are. Can't be long now." His attention zoomed to the door as it opened and Nat, Maria, May, and Hartley walked in.

"That's a good sign," Hunter breathed. "Everything okay?" he asked them as they came to stand on the opposite side from his groomsmen facing their small audience.

They smiled and nodded. "Her dad's back there now," Maria informed him.

Hunter sent her a confused look. "Oh, right," he replied dumbly- was that normal? Damn, he wish he knew more about weddings.

"Don't look so worried on your wedding day, mate," Idaho said, clasping his shoulder from behind.

"Is there any other way to look?" Romanoff smirked.

He didn't respond as the music played and the doors at the end opened. Everybody turned, and those who were seated stood up to watch Bobbi walk in, side by side with her father. As they made their way down the aisle, he didn't turn away nor did his gaze flicker either- she was absolutely stunning. Her wedding dress was rather modest but was definitely the best wedding dress he'd ever seen.

As she got closer, he realised she was wearing heels, and discreetly stepped onto a step so that she didn't tower over him- he didn't want to have to lean up to kiss her, after all.

They finally met, taking way too long for his liking. "Wow, you look… wow," he muttered to her, words escaping him.

"Very articulate, Hunter. You look quite _wow_ yourself."

Hunter's lips turned up. This was really happening; they were really here to get married. He turned to the priest when he began speaking.

"Family and Friends of Groom and Bride – welcome to their wedding ceremony. We take ourselves out of the usual routines of daily living to witness a unique moment in the lives of Barbara Morse and Lance Hunter," he began, nodding his head to each of them. "Today they join their lives in the union of marriage. To all their guests: they are happy to share this moment with you. They have known most of you for several years. You are the ones who have supported them and known them so well- it is only fitting that you are the ones to share this once-in-a-lifetime moment with them."

Hunter only turned around and smiled at the guests whom he invited when Bobbi turned away to do so.

"Bobbi and Lance are pleased to have Susan and Gabriel in the front row…close to them for the ceremony. Bobbi thanks her mother for providing her with every opportunity possible and being the best mother anyone could ask for and her father for all the love and support her parents gave her over the years. A wedding day is often a day when couples miss family members no longer with them. For Bobbi and Lance, there are family members whose memories they hold dear."

Hunter glanced down and couldn't help but wonder why the priest was talking about lost loved ones. Thankfully, the speech didn't linger there and moved on- he smiled at Bobbi when she squeezed his hand.

"And so it is that Groom and Bride present themselves to be married today…surrounded by the people they love the most," priest finished the first section.

Hunter felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see Idaho holding note cards out to him- did he tell Idaho his vows? He accepted them anyway and read over them, a smile cracking on his lips when he realised that Idaho and written standard vows for him, in case he hadn't remembered to write his own- that man was literally the best best man a guy could ask for. "Bobbi, where do I begin with you. The first time we met, all I could think about was how hot you were," he chuckled, along with Idaho and two of his groomsman. "They remember that day, I was obsessed with you, it wasn't long before I realised that I was I falling deeply in love with you. Every moment we have spent together I am reminded of why I love you, from that glare you give me when I'm out of line, to the subtle smile of your lips when I've amused you- but you have to pretend I didn't. You are the most amazing and perfect woman I have ever known. You make me happier than I ever thought possible and I feel truly blessed that you have agreed to be my wife. Especially as you said no the first time." There was a few more laughs from their audience, but Hunter didn't pay them any mind.

Idaho tapped him on the shoulder and indicated the last card. So, he obediently flicked to that card and smiled before looking back at Bobbi. "I solemnly vow that I will spend every day doing everything I can to be the husband that you deserve; to support, love and cherish you; through the happiest times, but also through the darkest times. I vow to be your best friend, your closest soulmate and, most of all, your faithful husband. No matter what life may throw at us, I vow that I will never stop loving you, will never stop caring for you and will never stop trying to be the best husband that I can be." Hunter grinned, gave her a nod, but couldn't help but add, "I love you, Bob."

"Hunter..." Bobbi began, pausing to give him a wide smile. "Three years ago, you caught me by surprise. You annoyed me and pestered me and broke the rules and pulled some dangerous stunts and somehow still made me fall in love with you, and I can never thank you enough for that." She smiled, blinking several times. "I love you, Lance. Fiercely, I love you. You're the person I can laugh with and I can cry with and everything in between. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and there's no one else with whom I'd rather grow old. I promise to be the best wife I can be and stick by your side through everything life throws at us. I promise to come home from work as early as possible to be with you, to not force you to watch every season of _How I Met Your Mother_ more than once a year, and not complain so much when you want to watch socc-" She stopped herself, smiling again. "- _football_." Bobbi gazed at him, warmth shining out of her blue eyes. "I swear to love you with all my heart for the rest of my life."

"Lance Hunter, do you take Barbara Morse to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have-" The Priest began before being interrupted by Hunter.

"I do. Completely. Yes, I do."

The Priest hesitated, obviously not used to being interrupted before turning to Bobbi. "Barbara Morse, do you take Lance Hunter to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

"I do."

"Then by the power invested to me, I now announce you, husband and wife- you may now kiss the bride."

There was no hesitation in Hunter's movements as she stepped closer and pressed his lips against hers. He didn't want to pull away, but eventually had to, however, he didn't take his eyes off her. "Thank you, you have just made me the happiest man in the world."

"Just wait until later." Bobbi whispered back in replied with a cheeky smirk on her face.

* * *

Hunter groaned as he slipped out of the car, him and Bobbi had been married for merely 48 hours before they were asked to come to S.H.I.E.L.D. And even though he had been assured it would only be for an hour, when something was 'top priority' he knows it takes a lot longer than that. "And you sure we won't miss our flight?" He insisted.

"Of course I am," Bobbi rolled her eyes. "Hill is always very punctual. Plus, if we did, Spain will still be around tomorrow. And…" She waggled an eyebrow at him. "We'd have to find something fun to do at home while we wait for the next available flight."

"Ooh, that sounds fun, I almost don't mind missing the flight." Hunter replied with a grin.

"Something fun...like Jenga," Bobbi said with a smirk. "Or Monopoly."

Hunter's smile dropped as he looked at her. "That is _not_ where I thought you were going with that Bob." He sighed. "Come on, the quicker we get in, the quicker they'll hopefully let us go."

"Not likely, Hill's been known to make everyone wait around an extra five minutes so that the meetings start exactly on time," Bobbi grumbled. "But fine, yes, let's go."

"Then how come our wedding started late?" Hunter questioned lightly.

"That was my dad," Bobbi said with a laugh. "He wouldn't go out there with me until I could truthfully assure him that his eyes weren't red from crying any more."

Hunter smiled softly. "I couldn't tell that he had been emotional over it- I guess he _really_ didn't want you to marry me, eh?"

"Offered me half a million dollars and his car to be a runaway bride," Bobbi teased, stopping when she saw the horrified look on his face. "Kidding, Hunter, kidding. He was just happy for us."

Hunter shook his head slightly, trying to hide the amused smile. "I'm sure."

She headed for the door, go-bag swinging from one hand. "So what do you think the emergency is? Personally, I'm hoping 0-8-4, but with all the HYDRA clean-up going on I highly doubt it."

"0-8-4 is an… unidentified… alien object right? Because don't they usually blow up?"

She gave him a sideways look as they reached the front doors. "Really, Hunter, the 0-8-4 designation is S.H.I.E.L.D.-101. And no, they do not _usually blow up._ " She held one open for him. "That was once. In Baghdad."

Hunter raised his arms in defence. "But they do _sometimes_ blow up." He pointed out. "I hope it's nothing to do with a mission, or clean-up, or objects that may or may not blow up… so we can get out of here."

Bobbi rolled her eyes at him. "She's just interrogating Sitwell, we'll meet her there and then she'll let us know what she wanted us for."

"Alright." He muttered, letting her lead the way. He looked at the two way mirror as they walked into the viewing room to see Sitwell calmly sipping his water, although, the sweat dripping from his forehead showed them that he was nowhere near calm. "Let me get this straight, you want me to look through thousands of files and tell you who was and was not HYDRA?" Sitwell questioned, his eyes darting around the room.

"Yes." Hill confirmed, sitting patiently on the other side of the table from Sitwell.

He sighed. "I guess I don't have much of a choice. Are we going to start with in-S.H.I.E.L.D personnel or those out of S.H.I.E.L.D?" There was a deafening silence as they processed his words.

"Outside of S.H.I.E.L.D?" Hill questioned carefully.

"HYDRA has got their hands in a lot of pockets, not just S.H.I.E.L.D."

Hunter looked at the look on Bobbi's face and sighed- they were definitely not going on their honeymoon now.

 **The End**

* * *

 **Thank you to my co-writer for helping me make this story happen: Sanctuaria. If you liked this, you should check out her Huntingbird stories.**

 **I had a lot of fun writing the majority of this story!**

 **Thank you to everybody who took the time to read, review, fav or follow this story!**


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